


So Inclined Series

by terma_archivist



Category: Once a Thief (TV)
Genre: Bondage, M/M, M/M Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Quasi Non-Consensual, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-12-01
Updated: 1999-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:14:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26535649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terma_archivist/pseuds/terma_archivist
Summary: Mac and Vic drink, challenge each other and slash ensues, yet again.
Relationships: Victor Mansfield/Mac Ramsey
Collections: TER/MA





	1. Straight

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alicettlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [TER/MA](https://fanlore.org/wiki/TER/MA) and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2019. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [the TER/MA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/terma/profile).  
> Part 1: Straight -- DISCLAIMER: They belong to Alliance and John Woo. FEEDBACK: Please. [email removed] Just don't tell my mother. ARCHIVE: RatB, Calculated Risks http://denofsin.slashcity.tv/~lefey Part 2: Bent -- SUMMARY: Vic and Mac continue their ""extreme sex sports"" PWP Part 3: At Odd Angles -- SERIES: So Inclined, SUMMARY: Vic is in denial and Mac is in need. Part 4: Connected PAIRING: Vic/Mac/Other, RATING: NC-17 Due to Male/Male/Male sex, bondage, language. SERIES: SO INCLINED THANKS: Many thanks to Nicole S, for all the similarities we share and the wonderful Prologue, Warped she wrote for this piece, and Epilogue. I was inspired by: Sylvia's great story ""Men At Some Time"" in which Mac says, ""Hey, this is the only way I know to do this, okay?"" Minotaur's admonishment on his site, ""Think of all the troubles you have in your relationships with men, and then double them."" Kest's comment that Vic would watch football on TV and drink watery beer. And the Theban Band's sweet illo ""Towel"". SUMMARY: It is Victor's birthday. Mac gives him gifts and takes him out but it is the Director who has a special birthday surprise waiting. Epilogue: Rating: NC-17 for a some naughty words and m/m sex. Feedback pretty please! [email removed] Webpage: http://denofsin.slashcity.tv/ Spoilers: LeFey's So Inclined series Sequel/Series: This is the final piece to LeFey's ""So Inclined"" series, and the stories ""Warped"" and ""Connected"" that were recently posted. Summary: Closure Disclaimer: None of these people belong to me, they belong to Alliance/Atlantis, although they like to get out once in awhile and play. Elliot and Section Six belong to LeFey. Scott belongs to me. Thanks to LeFey for inspiring me yet again! She also did supreme beta on short notice. All other mistakesare my own.

  


**Part One  
Straight**

"No way man!" Victor licked the salt from his fist, knocked back the shot of blue agave tequila, and bit into the nearly sweet lime wedge. Mac slammed his empty shot glass down on the dining room table. 

"My furniture," Victor warned. 

"Don't change the subject." Mac reached for the bottle that sat between them. "Put your money where your mouth is, Mansfield." 

Victor took the bottle back as soon as Mac's glass was filled. 

"This is good shit. Glad you snagged that case before the police secured the scene. How long do you have to stay here?" 

"The Director said till she can smooth things over with the police." 

"That should take all night." 

"Come on man, pony up," Mac demanded. 

"Horse. There's no pony here. Maybe there." Vic pointed at Mac's crotch. 

"You started this," Mac said and then took another shot. 

"This stuff is like red wine, the longer you have the bottle open the smoother it gets," he mumbled. 

"Yeah," Victor said with an ironic lilt, as he took back the bottle. "That's because the longer the bottle is open the drunker you get." He took this shot neat, no salt, and no lime. "And yes you did too, start this." Vic wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. "When you put those crude moves on that pretty detective in charge." 

"You're just jealous." Mac bit into the lime first, realized his mistake and started the process over. "She must be the ultimate wet dream for you. A police babe." He gave Vic a leering grin before he knocked back the tequila. "Besides, we had talked for awhile before you started eavesdropping. She would have given me her number if you hadn't showed up." 

"Hey you're the one who bragged about having perfect Greek genitals." Victor gestured with the full shot glass he held. 

"She smiled when I said that. She knows what that means." 

"Sure she does." Victor threw back his drink and bit into the lime. "That's why she was smiling. Ever since I was old enough to care I knew it meant. well . let's just say you're on short strokes from the beginning." 

Vic reached for the bottle but Mac grabbed it away from him. 

"Come on BIG Man." The words dripped sarcasm. "Let's see what you've got." 

"What are you, fourteen? Give me the bottle." Vic held out his hand and shook it impatiently then snapped his fingers. 

"Not till we settle this." Mac stood and put the bottle on the dining room chair he had just vacated. His hands went to his Gucci belt and in a second it was undone and the button of his Armani slacks slipped through the button- hole. 

"Come on," he nearly shouted, gesturing at Vic. "Let's go man!" 

Victor rocked back in his chair and laughed. 

"You really are serious." 

Mac's face was growing red with frustration, anger and alcohol. 

"Okay, buddy. Since, you so desperately need to be humiliated." Vic slammed his palms down on the table. "I'm not going to disappoint you." 

He stood up, stepped away from the table and unbuckled his belt. He undid his button fly but then stopped. He looked at Mac who now stood only a foot away from him.

"You first," he challenged, suddenly wary that this might be another of Mac's sick jokes. 

Mac unzipped and let his pants fall to the floor. He wasted no time getting his dick out of his boxers and displayed to Victor. It was a decent enough organ. Not small, not particularly big either. It could best be described as lanky, like its owner. 

"Idiot," Vic groused. "That's not Greek." 

Mac gave a triumphant smirk. "I'll save you the embarrassment. You can concede now." 

Vic ignored him as he snaked himself out of his briefs."And this ain't Greek, either." 

Laid across his hand was what could only be described as formidable. It wasn't much longer than Mac's but of much more substance. 

Mac swallowed. 

Victor leaned in and cocked his head, listening. "What was that noise? The sound of you losing?" Victor reached around him and snagged the bottle. 

"But can you last?" 

"What?" Vic stood and stared at him. 

"Well, isn't that the whole point. Who cares what it looks like if you can't last long enough to give her what she needs." 

Victor shook his head. "You cared a minute ago, schizo." 

"So, you're saying you can't last." Mac took a step towards Vic. 

Victor gave a laugh of disbelief. 

"I'm standing here with a bottle of tequila in the one hand and my dick in the other. What? Isn't this high school enough for you without your new challenge?" 

"How long can you last, Mansfield?" Mac moved even closer, the heat from their bodies radiating off each other. 

"Ask LiAnn," Victor threw back at him. 

"She's still in Vancouver. We're here. Now!" 

Victor laughed at the absurdity of the situation and took a step back. "Man, you are drunk." 

"We can settle this." 

"How? I don't have that much cash on me. You know a hooker who takes Visa?" Victor joked, but then laughed. "Look who I'm asking. Of course you do." He put the bottle on the table and redressed himself. 

"When I was coming up in the Tang, the men took pride in how much pleasure they could give a woman." 

Vic picked up the bottle again and took a pull from it. "What are you talking about, a jerk off contest? That was junior high." 

"We practiced tantric rituals to reach new levels of sexual ability. Then we had tests of endurance to see how long we could last before climaxing." 

"That's not much of a contest since you know when to let up." 

"It wasn't like that. We knelt opposite our opponent and ." 

Victor raised his hands and backed up. 

"No. way. in. hell! I'm not touching you and you sure as hell aren't touching me." 

"Why? Because you know you'll lose?" 

"No. Because I know I'm straight." 

"I'm straight, too!" Mac pointed angrily at himself to drive home the point. 

"Hmmm? I'm not the one who hung out with his buddies and diddled each other." 

Mac grabbed the tequila bottle still in Vic's hand. 

"I get it," Mac said quietly, his curved fingers slid over the neck of the bottle. "Too much booze, too old. You wouldn't exactly be up for something like this. Sorry, man. Sorry I asked." 

Victor jerked the bottle out of his grasp and slammed it down on the table. 

They stood for a moment, Victor glaring and Mac fighting not to smirk. 

"How's this stupid-ass contest of yours work?" Victor asked hotly. 

"First you take off your pants." 

"No. First you take off your pants." 

Mac looked down at the garment puddled around his ankles."I think I already have." He stepped out of the pants, snagged the waistband and tossed them across the back of the couch. He slipped out of his Italian loafers. He was putting his socks in his shoes when he looked up."Are you going to do this or chicken out?" he barked at Vic.

Vic undid his jeans and slipped them off. He pulled off his socks and threw them next to his boots that rested under the coffee table. 

"The shorts come off too," Mac instructed. 

"You." 

"Together!" Mac snapped. "God, you are such a jerk."They slowly pulled off their underwear never breaking eye contact. 

"Now, the first thing we do is set ground rules." 

"Like safe words?" 

"Never knew you were a freak, Vic." 

Victor glowered at him. 

"I worked vice for three years, asshole." 

"No. No safe words." Mac grinned. "Besides, your only safe words are 'you win'. And I'll be hearing that soon enough. I'm talking body parts. No balls." 

"Nothing here." Victor let his hand sweep over his groin and the y of his legs. 

"You ticklish, Vic?" Mac grinned again and feigned a poke at him. 

Vic slapped his hand away and scowled. 

"Just cocks." 

"Just cocks." Mac shrugged his agreement. "That's all I'll need. You see, besides endurance I've got technique. Kneel down." 

Victor started to speak. 

"Okay, okay together!" 

The two men, nude from the waist down knelt facing each other. They reached tentatively towards one another. The first touch shocked them both. A mutual tiny shiver rattled through their nerves. 

Mac's fingers trailed over Vic. Despite the anger and margin of disgust he felt his body responded to the knowing massage. 

"This one likes me," Mac teased. 

"No talking!" Victor barked. 

"The ground rules are set before we .."Mac stopped in mid-sentence. Victor outlined the tender edges of the head with a feather light touch. 

The competition had begun in earnest. 

Mac was right. He had technique and it was rapidly driving Vic crazy. But he had knowledge. While, being punished with grunt work he'd had to sort tapes for the Director. He'd found a surveillance tape from Mac's apartment. Vic had watched him jerk off and knew exactly where his sweet spot was. 

His fingers traced down to the base and was rewarded by an involuntary jerk as he circled the shaft. He gave short teasing strokes as he worked the tunnel of his hand up towards the head. A long tight stroke back brought a stifled gasp. 

Vic looked at Mac. His eyes were closed, face flushed and he worried his bottom lip with his teeth.Vic closed his eyes as well and began the slow light tickle up the sides of Mac's cock. He tried to concentrate on what his hand was doing in an attempt to ignore the torture Mac was administering to his throbbing dick. 

Vic jumped minutely as Mac found his circumcision scar. His fingers glided over the sensitive spot, not staying long enough to bring any satisfaction, just enough to make Vic miserable with need. 

He knew this was one of Mac's spots as well so Vic gave back in kind. He alternated a firm massage with a light tease. Every few seconds he let his fingers creep over the head feeling the tissue swell under the torment.He was working his fingertips down the shaft, his thumb still wiggling against the good spot under the head, when Vic felt it. 

A brush across his lips, the light flicker of a tongue on corners before Mac pressed his mouth home.Vic jerked at the sensation. His hands came up and he shoved Mac in the chest. 

"What the hell is that!" he shouted. 

"We never said no kissing," Mac shot back. 

"Fuck you!" Vic started to stand. 

Mac grabbed his shoulder. 

Vic shook him off. 

"Don't touch me!" 

"So you concede." 

"Fuck off!" 

Vic stood, Mac right beside him blocking any retreat. 

"I win because you couldn't take it." 

"Fuck you. I quit because you're not kissing me. Anyway, loser, you got crab-claws for hands. You couldn't get me off if your life depended on it." 

"You fuckin' liar. If you were any harder I'd cut myself on the veins. I did that. You quit rather than have to give it up." 

"Asshole." Victor shoved Mac in the shoulder trying to get past him. 

"Don't push me." Mac shoved him back. 

Vic glared at him for a moment, then very deliberately planted the heel of his hand on Mac's sternum and pushed. 

"Or you'll do what?" 

Mac moved back to stand nose to nose with Vic. Their rigid dusky cocks nearly touched. 

"I'll finish you off." 

Vic began a derisive laugh when Mac tripped him. As he crumpled Mac threaded his arm behind his head and grasped his right wrist twisting the arm into a triangle. In a swift fluid movement Mac had Victor trapped, left arm straight out and immobile, right hand trapped and his head forced forward. 

Mac pushed himself against the arm of the couch and entangled Vic's legs in his. 

Vic struggled but was effectively spread-eagled and sitting in Mac's lap. 

"Now let's see how long you can last, tough guy." Mac's free hand found Vic's hard dick. 

"Wicked tool, man." He purred as he gave one firm tug that shook Vic. "I think it's really best if you sensitize the skin first. Makes the job go a little quicker." 

Mac scratched his fingernails lightly over the taut skin till Vic squirmed. 

"Kind'a hard to take, eh? First time somebody did this to me I creamed after the first three strokes."Mac circled his hand over Vic's heated cock and gave a few quick pulls that left Vic panting. 

"The nice thing about this hold is I can see my watch. I'll spot you three minutes. But I say you don't last five." 

"Fucking pervert," Vic managed through gritted teeth. 

"Hey I'm not the one who's on the thin edge of coming because a guys loping me."

Mac's fingers teased over the shaft and under the lip of the head until Vic's stomach muscles jerked from his fight to stave off his orgasm. 

"I lasted twenty minutes one time," Mac said in a conversational tone. "Know what got me?" Mac laughed and then continued. "What do you think about, Vic, when you jerk off? When you say that, it almost guarantees the guys gonna get a mental picture of the one thing that always gets him off. I was barely hanging on 'cause he was mixing up the strokes." Mac's hand mimicked his words. "And that's real hard to deal with when the sensation keeps changing." 

Vic was sweating. Unable to move he bit the inside of his cheek in a futile effort to back off from the inevitable climax. 

"Then he asked what I thought about, and pow, I was screaming. It was good though, a real hard, ball-throbbing come." Mac put his mouth next to Vic's ear and whispered. "Like you're gonna have, Vic. Come on Vic," he coaxed. "You can't take much more, man. I can feel how hard you are. You're running on pure stubborn will power. But I can tease and stroke you for hours and all you can do is, Ahh. Ahhh. come hard." Vic trembled with the effort to prevent his orgasm. He was rigid trying to maintain control. Mac's soft teasing voice, and the images his words evoked, bolted through his cock. 

"You know you don't stand a chance. I once took down a guy who had lasted for thirty minutes. He'd got three men off before me. But he hadn't said anything about toys before we started. So I took out this little string of ostrich feathers. Like a little rope of down and just worked it around under the head." Mac's fingers traced the sensitive skin under Vic's penis head as he spoke. 

Vic moaned and shook at the torment. 

"He only lasted a few minutes," Mac continued. "Which was good because he'd found a place that was making me tremble." 

Mac's hand circled Vic and he began to stroke the full length of the shaft. 

"You know how hard it is to try and get somebody off when all you want to do is make your own teasing stop. It's like being tickled and not being able to move away from it." The rhythm of his stroking grew more insistent. "You should have seen his face when I started with the feathers. Each second was agony. What he was doing to me was just as bad." 

Mac was on the short strokes now and Victor was suffering from the tormenting pleasure.

"But I lasted just long enough to see him come first. Then I lost the battle and I came like hell." 

"Ahhhh." The sound was ripped, pulled, torn from deep within Victor's body as he climaxed. His cock jerked and spasmed as Mac milked him. Vic's entire body bucked and thrashed as the incredible blinding pleasure rocked through him. 

As he grew quiet, Mac slowed. Then when Vic lay limp against him, Mac disentangled himself. 

Victor rolled to his side and lay still, panting.Mac patted him on the shoulder. 

"Good, huh? Turns your bones to water."

He stood and stroked himself as he looked at Vic."I'm going in the bathroom and take care of some business. I'll be back in a minute and clean you up." 

Mac padded across the livingroom. His erection was starting to ache. He had been a little too certain about his ability to hold himself in check. It had been a long time since he'd participated in something like this. He was lucky Vic had gotten angry. A couple more teasing strokes and he would a have lost it for sure. His fingers tingled with the need to touch himself but didn't dare till he reached the bathroom. 

He stretched as he walked, raising his arms over his head to relieve some of the tension. 

He heard Vic stir behind him. 

He felt the thud of the footsteps rather than heard them. Before he could turn the handcuff slipped over one wrist and Victor wrestled him to the floor. 

In a moment Victor had pulled the empty cuff past the leg of the old steam radiator. Another struggle and Mac was shackled, flat on his back, his hands raised above his head. Vic caught one of Mac's legs and looped his belt around his ankle, securing it to the sturdy leg of his heavy leather couch. 

Vic took his time extracting Mac's belt from his pants and watched as he struggled. Even though Mac kicked his free leg at Victor, it was easy to secure it as well. 

Victor knelt beside Mac.

"You're right man, it was good. I feel good." He wrapped his hand around Mac's still rigid dick and squeezed. "I feel relaxed and ready for just about anything." 

He pulled on Mac who raised as much as he could in his restraints. Vic pushed a pillow under his butt effectively immobilizing him while offering up his cock. 

"You sick bastard," Mac hollered. He tried to struggle but could manage little more than a squirm. 

"Right. And what you did to me was the model of mental health." 

Vic lowered his head and peered at Mac's cock. 

"What's this?" He ran his fingertip over the piss slit and looked at the glistening liquid that coated his skin.

"You're real close." Victor grasped Mac and squeezed him forcing out more precum. He gathered the viscous liquid and swirled it over the head of Mac's cock. The hood flared, and Mac bit his lip grimacing at the intensity of the sensation. 

When he finished, Victor leaned close to him. 

"I find that when this dries it starts to itch." He leaned back and smiled. "I have to take a piss. You lay here and think about what I might do to you." He ran a finger across the line of Mac's groin making him jump. 

"Ticklish, Mac?" Vic echoed Mac's words to him. 

"When I get out of this I'm going to kill you, Mansfield!" 

Vic rose, smiling down at Mac. 

"That doesn't give me much incentive to let you go, now does it?" 

He walked away in a hail of curses. 

Vic took his time getting back. The semen was drying. The wetness, at first, was cool. Vic, clad only in blue gym shorts, walked past Mac and headed for the kitchen. As he passed, little eddies of air wafted over the damp patches on Mac's cock head. The sensation sent frosty jolts of pleasure through him. 

When Vic finally came back the prophesized itching had begun. 

Vic sat down beside Mac and placed a wicker serving tray between them. He gingerly took out a small stainless steel mixing bowl full of water. As he sat it down ice cubes rang against the sides.

"I never told you about my time in vice, did I." He took other objects out as he spoke and systematically arranged them beside him. "We were after this SM prostitution ring. They were dealing drugs, guns and underage girls. We needed somebody on the inside. I was the rookie so I got the assignment of being initiated into a bondage club." 

Mac strained against the handcuffs. 

"You hurt me, you dickhead, I will kill you." 

"Oh, this has nothing to do with pain." 

There was a ping in the background. 

"Microwave. The water's boiled." Vic rose and strode into the kitchen. In a moment he was back with an opaque bowl, steam curling up from the contents. 

Mac's eyes were huge, and Vic laughed when he saw the startled expression. 

"This is for later." He pulled a plastic bottle of body oil out of the water bath. He set it aside and leaned over Mac. He unbuttoned the tailored silk shirt and lay it open. 

"What the fuck are you doing?" Mac seethed. 

"You did cock on me. I'm going to do the rest of you." 

"You lasted seven minutes," Mac taunted. "And I spotted you three. Do whatever you want. I'll out-last you, easy." 

"You still don't get it." Vic leaned on one elbow, his mouth level with Mac's dick. "Is this starting to itch? It looks all crusty." Vic blew softly on the wide dusky head. 

The irritating itch Mac had been able to deal with, blossomed into full-fledged torment. He tensed his butt and legs trying to get some relief. 

Finally, Vic stopped. 

"I can still outlast you," Mac said defiantly between ragged breaths. 

"It's not about how long you can last." Vic sat up and took the stainless steel bowl in hand. "It's about whether I'll ever let you come." 

He scooped up some water and gave an exaggerated shiver. 

"I'll take care of that mess for you." 

Mac screamed as the cold water shocked his skin and shrunk his dick. 

Vic leaned over him and wiped his wet hands on Mac's chest. Mac winced at the cold touch.

"You ever hear of denial, Ramsey. Cum control. Blue balls. Well, you will. That's what happened to me. I had this really hot chick and this very knowledgeable guy work me over. I was begging in a hurry." 

He took Mac's dick and shook it. "Starting at half mast like this, I predict the man here will be weeping in a few. And you'll be begging not long after." 

"What's all that shit?" Mac strained in his bonds to look at the objects Vic had taken out of the tray. 

"Toys." He picked up a small soft bristled nail-brush "Sounded like you were in to toys." He drew the brush quickly across Mac's stomach, making him shiver. 

"That sensitizing thing makes sense. We'll start there." 

Vic scoured Mac's body with the delicate touch of the brush. Startling nerves into sensation, Vic lingered over ticklish spots till Mac yelped. Other places betrayed Mac in their response to the deliciously sensual rub and sent blood rushing to fill his dick. When Mac felt he couldn't bear it any longer, when he thought there was a chance to make himself get off, the harsh chill of Vic's ice water drenched fingers encircled his cock. 

"That's the bad thing about having a guy do this to you," Vic said as his hand left Mac's softened organ. "I know how the equipment works. You're not going to be able to sneak one past me." 

Vic tormented him in every way imaginable. He produced a thick sable paintbrush and went to work on Mac's nipples. The brush was equally effective when Vic slowly explored the inside of Mac's legs. 

"Your ground rule earlier was no balls. Let's find out why." 

Vic twirled the brush over the sensitive ridges of Mac's scrotum. He bucked and strained at his bonds to free himself from the torment. 

"I bet you could come from this," Vic mused. 

Mac knew he could, had, in point of fact, and now fought desperately not to let Vic make him come writhing and screaming. Just when he thought he would rip apart from the strain and the relentless pleasure, he felt the burn of ice and screamed. 

"We'll save that for later," Vic told him as he toweled off the melted ice. The rub from the thick, terry cloth brought the blood coursing back. 

"You're recovering faster. We'll just have to up the ante." 

Mac was trying to catch his breath. His head was turned away from Vic and he was panting. He snapped around immediately to see what was causing the unbearable sensation on his dick. 

He strained to see what Vic was doing. He watched helplessly as Vic traced the head of his penis with a Q-Tip. The cotton had been pulled away from the stick so it was fluffy and frayed. The normally smooth teardrop of fibers was a mass of filaments each one sending out a different tormenting sensation. 

Mac let out an anguished moan. 

Vic smiled. "Talk about hard to take, huh. The great thing about this is, well, you'd probably say the bad thing about this is it's not enough to get you off, but God it really makes you wish you could." 

The sensation was a wrenching, itching tickle that drew the blood and made Mac throb with need. 

"I read once that the Chinese, in the old days, use to torture people sometimes by tickling them. When they did this to me at the bondage club I thought this must be what it's like." He gave a wicked laugh as he concentrated the Q-tip at the V under the head. "Now, you know what that poor bastard had to endure when you put those feathers to him." 

Mac was writhing as best he could in the bonds, and tossed his head within the confines of his raised arms. 

The air rushed from his lungs and his body collapsed with exhaustion when Vic stopped. After a moment he tensed, waiting for the slap of the ice water. 

"Let's do the silk next." Vic unfolded a well-washed silk scarf. "This is almost as bad but doesn't tickle so much." 

He wrapped the soft material around Mac's throbbing cock. Then slowly, very slowly pulled it up letting the fabric spiral around Mac's engorged dick. 

Mac gasped. The feeling was incredible. A thousand, no a million tiny fingers seemed to caress him. Vic was right it didn't tickle as much as the torturous Q-tip but it made him even more aroused. 

"I'm being nice," Vic nearly cooed as he ministered to the dusky cock before him. "I had this danced all over my body before they got to my dick. It really drives you crazy when they drag it over your lips. God that was unbearable." He shivered at the memory. "All you want to do is scratch. And of course you can't even move. With your lips it would be pure hell." Vic pulled the tissue of silk off Mac again. "But that must be what this feels like now." 

This was just the beginning. Victor continued a dizzying series of torments, returning to some that he knew drove Mac crazy, then devising new ways to guarantee his futile arousal. He had toyed with Mac's balls throughout, gauging how far was too far, and applying the ice, frequently. 

"Vic!" Mac's voice was a wail. "Please, Vic." 

"What?" Vic tossed back coldly. He had moved past the tease and was now into the more profound torture of prolonged arousal. He had put Mac in that place where the pleasure had grown from ache to near pain. 

Vic began to massage warm oil over Mac's stomach. The sweet oaky smell of vanilla surrounded him. His thumbs traveled over the flare of Mac's hips. Spots that were ticklish the hour before, responded now to the sensuality of the slick massage. Each stroke drove arousal directly to Mac's suffering dick. 

"Vic, please man! You win! I'm dying! You win." Mac strained, pushing himself against Vic's hands, moving unsuccessfully, in order to make more contact. 

Vic had soaked the silk scarf in the ice water and plastered it around Mac's dick but nothing could quell his erection now. Vic looked at the bowl of ice water. A few cubes still floated there. He thought about fishing one out and rubbing it on Mac, letting the remainder melt on his balls. 

He also thought about putting one on his own neck, to relieve the heat building inside him. There was a part of him that liked this, a part of himself that he didn't particularly like. He found a perverse satisfaction in having arrogant, self-centered Mac Ramsey at his mercy. He was certain Mac had felt the same way when he'd forced him to come. 

Mac was making inarticulate noises, now. Guttural "ughing" sounds with each breath. 

Vic peeled off the wet silk and dried him with the towel. Mac squirmed and made mewling noises at the sensation. 

Vic pulled the body-oil from the hot water and poured some into his hands rubbing them together. The liquid was silky and still very warm. He drizzled some directly onto Mac's cock and balls. Mac sucked in his breath at the unexpected nearly-hot sensation. 

Vic worked the insides of Mac's legs till he groaned. 

Vic needed to stop, he knew this. He needed to let Mac come. Mac had been denied much longer than the "professionals" at the club had made Vic wait. Vic needed to stop for his own sake and be rid of this hateful aspect of himself that had been awakened in the dungeons of the bondage club. 

But he didn't stop, only moved his hands lower to work Mac's calves. He watched in fascination, as Mac's rigid cock grew duskier, the skin taut and more transparent till it gleamed a muted purple. 

Finally, he shook himself and moved up Mac's body to gather the excess oil that nestled in the hollow between Mac's dick and balls. 

At the touch Mac jerked.

Victor rolled Mac's balls in his fingers, spreading the warm oil. 

"No. Vic, please no." Mac struggled as the sensation Vic finger's produced possessed his body. "Please, not that way. It's too much," he finished from between clinched teeth. 

"I'm just doing what you did for me, Mac. I'm giving you a long, hard, ball-throbbing, bone melting come." 

But he took mercy on Mac and wrapped his hand around his cock, letting up on his balls. He kept his hand loose for a few strokes as Mac tensed. Then Vic tightened his grip and stoked hard and fast. 

"OH God," the words were drawn out into a tormented cry of overwhelming pleasure as Mac pumped over Vic's hand. 

When it was over Vic cleaned him with the warm water from the oil bath, before he undid the retraints and removed the pillow. 

Mac lay still even after the handcuffs and belts were removed. 

"You okay?" Vic patted him on the chest after a minute. He knew he was far beyond okay. Vic, himself had lain on the bondage table, floating in an endorphin created bliss for over an hour after they'd finished with him. 

Mac opened his eyes and pulled his arms down to his sides. The fingers of one hand went to his mouth and he rubbed his face as if he'd just awakened. 

"Wow," he said in a hoarse, thin voice. 

Vic laughed and offered his hand to help him sit up. 

Mac took it and pulled himself into a sitting position, his back against the cold metal of the old radiator. 

"That was intense," he said after a long pause. 

"Yeah. What you did to me, too," Vic conceded and leaned back against the end of the couch. 

The two men sat on the floor opposite each other. No-one speaking for a long while. 

"You think we could ." Mac started tentatively but Victor cut him off. 

"No. I'm straight," he said flatly. 

"I'm straight too, remember." A little of the Mac Ramsey edge was returning to his voice. 

"This wasn't about sex," Vic said suddenly. "This was like a power thing." 

"You mean a sort of practical joke?" Mac put in apparently seeing where this line of thought could lead them. 

"Yeah. It was just a thing guys do." 

"It started as a challenge after all," Mac agreed. 

"That's right. You messed with me. I gave it back to you." 

"In spades," Mac blurted out. 

They were both quiet for a minute. Finally, Victor spoke. 

"Now, we're even. We're both straight. This was a real male type competion and we both won." 

Mac nodded. "Like extreme sport." 

"Very extreme," Vic said quietly looking at the floor. 

After an extended silence Victor stood and offered his hand again to Mac. 

"You want a shower?" 

"Yeah." He took the helping hand and stood. 

The two walked towards the bathroom, Vic behind Mat his hand protectively on the unsteady man's shoulder. 

"Have you ever wondered how long you can kiss before you _have_ to come?" Vic asked. 

* * *

DISCLAIMER: They belong to Alliance and John Woo.   
TYPE : PWP V/M Quasi non-consensual M/M sex   
RATING: NC-17 M/M sex, swearing and bondage.   
SUMMARY: Mac and Vic drink, challenge each other and slash ensues, yet again.   
FEEDBACK: Please. [email removed] Just don't tell my mother.   
ARCHIVE: RatB, Calculated Risks http://denofsin.slashcity.tv/~lefey   
---


	2. Bent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mac and Vic drink, challenge each other and slash ensues, yet again.

Go to notes and disclaimers 

  
**Part Two  
Bent**

Mac popped the video in the VCR and returned to the couch next to Victor. 

Vic had already hit the remote and was fastforwarding through the previews and ads. 

"Where'd you find this?" 

The question was asked nonchalantly enough but Mac detected the slightest note of suppressed excitement. 

"A catalogue." 

Vic snapped around to look at Mac. "You bought it?" There was no mistaking his reaction now. 

"I bought two. I figured you'd wear this one out before you got bored with it." 

"Shh. It's starting." Vic was leaning forward on the couch, intently watching the screen. Two women in police uniforms entered a locker room. There was insipid dialogue, badly read lines, but that wasn't what was important. The two began to undress, then undress each other. In the middle of the striptease they started to kiss and touch. One woman was tall and blonde with heavy breasts and large dusky nipples. Her partner was smaller, dark and exotic looking. She moaned and arched as the blonde slipped her hand into the hi-cut panties that had "police property" stenciled across the butt. 

Vic rubbed his hand down his thigh and exhaled a long held breath. 

This was going to work, Mac was certain. This little fantasy of hot police babes getting each other off would probably turn Vic's cock into ground zero. A few well-placed strokes and there'd be melt down. Victor Mansfield, man of stone, as he'd started to call himself to taunt Mac, had won for the last time. 

Vic was holding his knees and rocking minutely when the video ended. 

"That was hot." His voice was breathy and the arousal he felt was plain to hear. 

"I thought you'd like that." Mac was already having trouble. He hadn't taken into account what watching Vic become excited would do to him. He didn't need porn; he didn't even need stimulation, all he needed was the sight of the bulge tenting Vic's pants to make him crazy. 

Vic jumped up. He was always a little hyper in the beginning. The energy of arousal, and anticipation of the competition seemed almost too much for him to handle. He gripped the coffee table and pulled it to the other side of the room leaving the space before the couch empty. 

"What are you doing?" Mac stood and took Vic's arm as he started to walk towards the kitchen. He wanted control of the situation. He had his own ideas about what would happen tonight. 

"I bought a couple jars of that extra-thick fudge sauce." Vic told him, straining a little to be on his way. "I'll get a sheet. We lay down here, sixty-nine, and lick the fudge off each others stomachs till somebody gives up." 

"No." Mac held onto his arm. "I want to do something else." He ran the fingers of his free hand down Vic's side. Victor moved involuntarily away from his fingers. Good sign. Vic was squirmimgly ticklish when things were going right. 

"I don't want to tickle. It doesn't get me off." 

Right, Mac thought. It doesn't get him off to _be_ tickled. But Mac remembered the only time they'd tried that test of endurance. Vic had overpowered him, after only a few seconds, and tickled him till he could barely breath and Vic could barely keep himself from coming. 

"I want to kiss." 

Vic gave him a disbelieving frown. "Why?" 

"It's my choice, tonight." 

"We've done that, what, three times? And you've lost, let me try and remember, three times." Vic displayed the infuriating, derisive smile he'd developed since they'd started playing "extreme sport" together. 

"Dickhead," Mac snapped. 

"Come on, you gotta give me some competition, Ramsey. Look, I'll spot you five minutes." He started to move away but Mac stopped him again. 

"I said we're going to kiss." 

Vic leaned in close. "Those chicks were really fine." The heat from his breath brushed Mac's cheek. He didn't need this; the low smoky timber of Victor's voice was like silk being teased over him. He was afraid Vic had become aware of power of his voice. He was afraid that Vic had become aware of a lot of things since they had started this two months before. Shy, vanilla Victor Mansfield disappeared when they were together. An arrogant sexual artist who reveled in tormenting Mac to orgasm had replaced him. 

"Man, didn't it get to you when they started licking each other," Victor continued to tease. "I want to lick you," he whispered. "And I want you to lick me." 

Mac pushed him back. 

"Kissing, that's it. And sauna." 

"Sauna," Vic pondered the idea. "And touching?" 

"No touching." 

"You're still going to lose. I am made of stone." 

"Shut-up, Dork, and get the plastic wrap." 

Vic and Mac stood in the living room, in the space Vic had cleared for them. They began to undress each other. This had become a ceremony of slow subliminal teasing for them. Buttons were dragged through buttonholes with as much accidental touching as possible. Shirts and pants were slid off with hands inside the garments, fingers trailing over sensitive skin. They were both hot and needy by the time they were nude. 

"Kneel down," Mac said, his voice already husky with arousal. 

Vic knelt across from him and held up his ample erection. "Top or bottom?" 

"Bo." Mac started. "Top." 

"Six of one," Vic said as he reached for the roll of plastic wrap on the rug beside him. 

Mac took it from his hand. "I'll do that. You start pretending to smooth it out and then you're jerking me off." 

Vic laughed as he handed it to him. "Do whatever you want, man. You're still going to lose." 

Mac took his own erection in hand and laid it on the back of Vic's. The heat rising from him bolted through Mac. He steeled himself. It was only going to get worse. He wrapped a layer of plastic around them and felt the heat intensify. The sauna, as they called it, was a little bit of self-torture Vic had come up with. Several layers of plastic wrap held them together. They could feel the slightest movement, the slightest escalation in arousal in the other. And the clinging plastic kept their mounting heat trapped next to their cocks, forcing even more blood to the engorged organs. 

Mac wrapped them many times, so they were hot, and tightly secured to each other. He cut the film with a pair of scissors, and then dropped the shears on the couch behind him. He licked his fingers and ran a bead of saliva over the edge of the plastic wrap, beginning to smooth it into place. He had cut it very deliberately so the seam lay along the underside of Vic's cock. 

Vic's stomach muscles tightened as Mac's fingers caressed the sensitive spot just below the head. 

"You smooth it once while you're sealing it," Vic managed. "Anymore and you're playing with me." He swatted Mac's hand away when he wouldn't stop. 

"What's the matter Man of Stone? Did that get to you." 

"No," Vic gave him an evil grin. "But you are in so much fuckin' trouble for trying it," he promised. 

Mac held his hands up, palms towards Vic. "We lock hands." 

"Last time we kissed I just teased this little spot on the back of your legs." Vic's hands flashed out to tantalize the sensitive skin just below the swell of Mac's butt. "And you nearly creamed," he said as Mac squirmed. 

"You fucking cheat," Mac hollered as he grabbed at Vic's hands. He secured his wrists and pulled his hands away, holding them between the two of them. "I said no touching!" 

Victor looked down at their joined dicks and smiled. 

"I think Mr. Man there liked it. You get any harder and you're going to bruise me." 

"Fuck you, Mansfield." 

"You're the once who's fucked, buddy." 

Mac threaded his fingers through Vic's. 

Vic circled his thumb on the palm of Mac's right hand and grinned knowingly. 

"Stop it!" Mac struggled to snag Vic's thumb. After a few seconds he pinched it between his own thumb and index finger. "Look if you keep cheating I'm going to call a forfeit right now." 

"Who do you think you are, the Damn Olympic committee? I don't need to cheat to beat you, wuss." Victor pushed their hands out to the side, shoulder high. "On three." 

Mistake, Mac thought as they stared at each other. Vic was mad. Vic became very stubborn when he was mad. Vic truly did become man of stone. Now, it would take a lot to make him give up. The unwanted image of Vic, after long hours of kissing, barely hanging on, floated through Mac's mind. His cock jumped at the idea. 

Vic gave a scornful laugh. "Christ, man. We haven't even started and you're already having tremors." 

Suddenly, Victor moved involuntarily, as well. 

Mac smiled back at him. "It seems to work for you." 

Victor leaned towards him. "You're finished, Ramsey." 

"One, two, three." They counted together and lowered their joined hands till they were extended at an angle away from their hips. 

Their lips brushed. Victor, taking the lead, opened his mouth and slid his lips slowly over Mac's. They stayed like this for several minutes. Each one in turn, barely touching the others lips, sending tantalizing shivers through both of them. 

Mac darted his tongue out, making it pointed and hard, to graze the corner of Victor's mouth. He traced the perfect bow of his lips and was rewarded with a twitch from beneath their joined cocks. Mac had found out just how sensitive Vic's mouth was the first time they had tried this. Mac's problem was he could never outlast Mansfield. Vic's arousal always pushed Mac beyond endurance. 

Vic kissed him hard. This was a ploy, Mac knew, to try and rid himself of the sensation that was plaguing his lips. Mac leaned back making the contact lighter. He slipped his tongue into Vic's mouth when the opportunity provided itself. Vic melted against him, at the initial pleasure. 

The kissing went on for an infinite time, growing from exploratory to passionate. Finally, an urgency set in that made their cocks jump and twitch in response to each other's erotic torment. 

Mac broke away first, his mouth moving to Vic's neck, his teeth grazing the taut skin. 

Vic bucked against him at the feeling but then found Mac's ear and worried the lobe with his teeth. Mac moaned into his neck. Vic shivered from the vibration of the sound against his skin. 

Mac slid his mouth down to lap at the hollow of Vic's collarbone. 

Mac felt him tense. This was it. He'd maneuvered himself to a place that drove Vic wild. He knew that the only thing Vic could reach was the top of his head. He made sure to move his head slightly on the off-chance that his soft thick hair was tickling Vic somewhere. 'Your turn. You're the one who's finished, Mansfield,' he thought. 

"Jeez, Mac. You're really twitching," Vic cooed in his dark, honeyed voice. "You better give up before you come on me." 

The words teased at Mac. His cock jumped in response. 

Victor laughed softly, but it was cut short when Mac nipped at the tender skin at his neck. 

Vic cleared his throat. "Come on Mac," his voice was a velvet growl. "You can't last much longer." Mac felt the nudge after Vic spoke. 'Damnit,' he cursed at himself. He hadn't wrapped them well enough. Vic was just enough longer to be able to work an annoying rub against Mac's sensitive balls. He swirled his tongue over the warm skin on Vic's neck. It was a battle of wills now.

The tiny rub on his scrotum was maddening and feeling Vic respond, under him, to what he was doing was making it worse. He had to last, just outlast him by seconds, that's all he needed. 

The fingers of their joined hands kneaded and clutched as they struggled to overpower each other. 

"What did I feel?" Vic asked in a low voice that seemed hot-wired into Mac's cock. "A drop of dew? You're really close aren't you? Don't cream on me, Mac." Vic pushed against him once more. 

Vic was right, he was close. Mac felt like he was vibrating with the effort to hold back. 

"If you cream on me, man, I'll have to punish you." Vic gave a low tortured moan as his own dick spasmed under Mac. He took a deep breath and continued. "You know what I'm going to do if you spill on me? I'll take the plastic wrap and bind your legs together. Then I'll wrap it around your arms and chest till you can't move. When I'm done I'll spread fudge sauce all over your balls. That will be enough to make you crazy. But since I'll have to teach you a lesson, then I'll lick it off, very slowly, with just the tip of my tongue." 

Mac's head shot up. "I give. Get me out of this shit." His hands scrabbled at the plastic wrap. 

Vic laughed and tried to grab his hands. "Ramsey, you are so easy." 

"Shut up, idiot." He'd managed to get the wrap started and once it was loose he pulled himself free. 

Vic took the loop of plastic wrap from his dusky, weeping cock and tossed it aside. He held his hands up in victory. "Once again, the winner, still champion, the man of stone." Vic thrust his hips at Mac. "You know the rules, loser gets the winner off first. Do a good job this time, because the longer it takes me the longer you have to wait." 

"You're such a dick." Anger and frustration burned in Mac. Victor knew how to push all his buttons. He always had but at least before he could pretend not to be bothered by him. Vic didn't buy that anymore. 

"Quite the dick, yourself, man." Vic reached out and tickled just under the head. 

Mac slapped his hand away. The act opened the gates. Vic laughed at him and Mac upended him onto the carpet. 

"What the hell." Vic tried to rise. 

Mac grabbed Vic's wrists and forced his hands under Vic's butt. He fell forward on his legs, effectively pinning Victor from the waist down. 

"Get off me, Ram." The rest of the name rushed from Vic's lips with a hiss as Mac swallowed his cock. 

Mac forced him as far into his mouth as he could. He swirled his tongue, sucked and nipped at his hardness. Vic moaned and struggled under him. 

"Mac, no. Stop! Oh God, no." Vic pleaded. He hollered. Then his voice dropped to an erotic moan as the pleasure took him. 

Mac felt him tense and slowed down. Vic writhed, lifting his head and shoulders from the carpet at the loss of intensity. 

Mac played with him and teased him, bringing him close enough to taste the salt of his precum then backing off. 

Vic no longer spoke, just made strangled moans as he waited on the torturous edge of ecstasy. 

"Mac, please." The words were drawn out, punctuated by his labored breathing. 

That's what Mac wanted to hear. He laughed, Vic still deep in his mouth. The vibration hummed around Vic's cock and made him tremble. 

Mac started a rhythm and licked and swallowed as he worked Vic. 

"Mac, I'm going to come." Victor struggled to free himself. "Mac, please.. I can't .. I can't.. I can't stop it!" 

Mac increased the intensity of everything he was doing and in a moment Vic was screaming. 

"Mac. Mac. Ahhh. God, Mac.." 

When it was over Mac knelt beside Vic, who lay boneless and panting, his eyes closed and his hands splayed by his head. Mac snagged the discarded plastic wrap and took his own erection in hand. He wasn't sure what was more arousing, the tingle of his fingers against his skin or the memory of Vic fighting not to come. The thought of forcing that pleasure out of Victor brought a thrilled, rattling, orgasm from Mac. 

He cleaned himself up as best he could with the plastic wrap and lay down next to Vic. It was only then that the other man stirred. Mac stared at the ceiling. He was uncertain, now, how Vic would react. Mac had crossed the line tonight. There was no telling if he was going to be kissed or killed. 

"You like that?" he ventured. 

"Didn't it sound like I did?" Vic asked in a voice slow and thick with bliss. 

Mac laughed, more from relief that he wouldn't have to fight for his life after what he'd just done, then from the unexpected question. 

"Where'd you learn to do that?" Vic asked. 

"I didn't. I just tried to duplicate some things that have been done to me." He turned to look at Vic who stared at him, his eyes troubled and narrowed. 

"Did LiAnn ever blow you?" he asked, apparently not eager to hear the answer. 

Mac laughed and propped himself on one elbow. He shook his head no. 

"You kidding?" 

Vic looked back at the ceiling. 

"I asked her once. But she pitched such a fit I never said anything again." 

"I can't imagine her blowing anybody. I can't imagine her doing anything except laying there and asking 'are you finished, yet.'" 

Vic turned his head quickly and looked at Mac. 

"I thought it was just me!" 

Mac grinned. "No. It's definitely her." 

"I always thought I wasn't doing enough, or maybe too much. I felt like I was doing something wrong all the time." 

"No," Mac said urgently. "How could you do anything wrong, man. You're the sexiest thing I've ever been around." 

Vic grabbed Mac and pulled him into a passionate kiss. They lay in each other's arms panting, forehead pressed against forehead. 

"You make me feel things no one else ever has," Vic confessed. 

"Me too," Mac whispered. "You do that to me, too, Baby." 

The name, Baby, shocked them both. They tensed and pulled away a bit. They looked at each other, a wary disbelief narrowing their eyes. The genie was out of the bottle. 

They disentangled from one another and lay back down on the rug staring at the ceiling. A long uncomfortable silence ensued. 

"We're in way over our heads," Mac blurted out. 

"Totally," Vic agreed quickly. 

"You want to quit?" Mac asked, looking over to Vic. 

Vic turned to Mac. 

"Do you?" 

"Fuck you, Mansfield! I asked you first!" 

Vic rolled to his back, staring at the ceiling once again. He let out a deep breath. 

"No," he said hesitantly, but then added in an embarrassed rush. "I can't do this with anyone else. I don't want to be with any one but you." He was silent for a moment but then motioned at his limp penis. "But I can't do what you did for me, tonight. Yet." 

"Don't sweat it, man. I didn't know I could do it 'til I had your dick in my mouth." 

"What now?" Vic asked quietly. 

Mac took a long time to answer. 

"May . maybe," Mac stammered. "Ah, sometime, maybe." He squared his shoulders against the carpet. "You know, like, sometime we could." 

"Make love," they both said at once. 

Silence hung between them. 

"But then it would be about sex," Victor offered quietly. 

Mac raised himself up on one elbow. His face tensed into a frown as he stared at Victor. 

"It _is_ about sex, Vic. It always was. Look at us!" His hand swept in a gesture that took in the two of them. "We're laying on the rug, naked and spent. Since we started this thing we've each touched practically every inch of the other guy's body. We've been kissing for the last twenty minutes. I've had your dick down the back of my throat. And you came in my mouth. Now, while that may not be Bill Clinton's definition of sex, it's sex by me." 

"I didn't want to come in your mouth," Vic shot back defensively. 

Mac watched the color rise in his face. 

"I know," he said and Victor looked away. "That was the best part." 

Vic turned back to him. Surprise flashed across his features. Then he smiled, shy but wickedly sexy. 

"Yeah. That was the best part." 

Vic's smile, his words, went right to Mac's core, rattling his heart and bringing a fine mist of heat to his skin. 

Mac ran his hand over Vic's face, gently pushing it away from him. It didn't help to erase the smile and now Vic laughed, the rich throaty laugh that made Mac forget his own name. 

Mac rocked back on his elbow. "If I could package what you're putting out now, I could become a very rich man, Baby!" He lay back down beside Vic. 

They were comfortable, for really the first time, just lying silently next to each other. Mac thought Vic had fallen asleep until he felt him take the tips of his fingers. Mac squeezed back. 

"You want to spend the night?" Vic asked. 

"You want me to?" 

"Don't 'you' start that crap," Vic groused. 

"Sure. Fine, I'll stay," Mac conceded. "But I can't do anything, more. I'm wasted." 

"There's morning, you know," Vic offered, his tone testing. 

"Sure, we could do morning. Morning is good." 

Vic squeezed his fingers again and then fell silent. 

"We're not straight anymore, are we?" Vic asked after awhile, his voice ringing with disbelief. 

Mac clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. 

"Nope, we're not in Kansas anymore, Toto." 

* * *

DISCLAIMER: They belong to John Woo and Alliance.   
FANDOM: Once A Thief   
RATING: NC 17 M/M Sex and language.   
SUMMARY: Vic and Mac continue their "extreme sex sports"   
PWP   
ARCHIVE: RatB, Calculated Risks http://denofsin.slashcity.tv/~lefey   
[email removed]   
---


	3. At Odd Angles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mac and Vic drink, challenge each other and slash ensues, yet again.

Go to notes and disclaimers 

  
**Part Three  
At Odd Angles**

Vic stood in the hallway outside Mac's apartment. He started to knock but held back. Things had gotten complicated. The sex was great. Being around Mac could be a blast. He was funny, mercurial and affectionate. But that was the obstacle between them, tenderness. Vic loved, craved, nearly lived for the desperate, test of wills that sex had become between them. But Mac was having second thoughts. Vic shook his head. 

'Stop lying,' he admonished himself. Mac was scared and he had a right to be. Vic had never hurt him but he had pushed him to the limits of his endurance, only to try and think of a way to go beyond that. 

"I don't want to do this all the time. I need something normal," Mac had blurted out just before he left, the last time they were together. 

"You got two guys getting each other off. Normal is kind of a contradiction in terms, isn't it?" 

Mac turned to him, his dark eyes bewildered. He looked incredibly young and troubled, like a child who knew Santa didn't exist but didn't want to give up the comfort of the myth. 

"I want to have.. to go.." he struggled to find the right words. "I want a date, Vic. I want us to have a date. I need some affection." The last words might as well have been 'go to hell' for the way they were said. 

Vic had agreed, too tired and spent to fight about it. 

Now, standing outside the door, he wasn't sure if he could go through with it. Despite the things they had done and said to one another, Vic clung to the lie that it was just a game. 

He rapped lightly on the door. Maybe Mac wouldn't hear; maybe he was in the back, then Vic could honestly say he had showed up and no one answered. 

He heard Mac's footsteps approaching. 

The door flew open. Mac was smiling, that baby-toothed smile that turned him into a big goofy kid. 

He reached out to pull Vic into a kiss. 

"What.." Vic straight-armed Mac when he leaned towards him. 

"What are you doing?" He pushed Mac back through the doorway of the apartment. Vic stepped inside and closed the door behind him. 

"I'm trying to kiss you hello, you jerk." Mac held out his hands and looked incredulous. 

"Somebody could see us." Victor motioned behind him. "I thought I heard the elevator." 

"That's just great. It's really good to see you too, Vic. As long as no one else does." 

Victor pushed past him and walked to the kitchen. 

"Don't get sensitive on me," he threw over his shoulder. He heard Mac let out an angry breath. After a moment there was the sound of his footsteps as he followed him. 

Mac took a seat at the kitchen bar as Vic rummaged through the cupboards. 

"Glasses are in the cabinet, right of the sink," Mac offered. 

He opened the paper bag that Victor had set on the counter, and withdrew a bottle. 

"This is nice," Mac commented sarcastically. "You always bring a bottle of Jack Daniels on a date." 

Victor took the bottle from his hand, opened it and poured a draft into the glass of ice he held. 

"Vic, tell me how this seduction technique of yours works. You usually get your date drunk or just hit them over the head with the bottle?" 

Vic raised his glass in a salute and narrowed his eyes. 

"I know which I'd rather do to you." 

"You said this was going to be different," Mac accused. 

"No. You said you wanted it to be different. I said I'd show up." 

"Show up! Be careful Vic, or I'll get a big head from all your attention," Mac shot back. 

"Stop talking like a queer." 

Vic drained his glass and turned towards the sink. 

"You go to fucking hell, Mansfield." Mac said the words slowly, each one sharp edged, ringing with hurt and barely controlled anger. 

Vic still had his back to Mac when he spoke. 

"Sorry," he said softly but there was no response. "I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to be . a guy's. boyfriend." 

"I don't either, Vic. But I'm willing to try. I think you're worth it. Despite the fact you think I'm shit." 

Vic turned slowly and leaned against the sink. It took him a moment before he could look at Mac. 

"I'm the one who's shit." He held out his hand to Mac. "I'm sorry. Can we start over?" 

Mac stepped around the counter and into the kitchen to join Vic. He slipped his arms around Vic's waist. 

"Let's just start," he whispered. Mac kissed him softly, sliding his lips lightly over the perfect bow of Vic's mouth. Victor's hands slipped under the blue muslin of Mac's loose shirt. His finger's traced the valley of his spine and Mac leaned into him. They kissed till they were both lost in the delight of exploring and being explored by the others' mouth. 

Mac slid one hand over Vic's stomach and felt the expected quiver as he circled his navel through the light denim shirt. He let his touch wander up Vic's body to tweak his nipple, then cup and fondle his pec. 

Victor shoved him back. 

"What the fuck is that?" His face was rouged with arousal and anger. 

"I..I.. was just..just.." Mac stammered, startled by his sudden fury. 

"I'm not a woman, Mac," Vic bellowed. "I'm not going to stand here while you try to feel me up like one of those club girl whores you used to fuck." 

"I didn't mean ." 

Vic pushed past him and started for the door. 

Mac followed a moment later, as angry at the rejection as Vic seemed to be from his attention. 

"You can't just walk out, Mansfield," he hollered after him. 

"Watch me." 

Mac tackled him, pushing Vic onto the couch. They struggled and grappled, each trying to gain the advantage over the other. Victor slipped off the couch and Mac landed on top of him. It was enough. Mac pinned Vic's hands above his head with one of his own. He placed the thumb of his free hand on the hollow of Vic's neck and made him yelp. 

"Lie still," Mac instructed as he panted. "I can make this very painful for you." He increased the pressure a little and Victor grimaced but didn't call out. Mac let up but kept his thumb poised on the spot. 

"You're going to listen to me, you pig-headed fuck." 

"I'm not going to be your bitch," Victor screamed. Vic struggled but then grew still and tried to move away from Mac's thumb on his neck. 

"But it's fine for me to be your torture toy." 

"It's a game. You called it extreme sport. Sports are man shit. I'm not going to be a woman for you. I'm a man." 

"You're a coward." 

Vic raised himself off the floor and overturned Mac. In a moment Vic held him down, his hands pressing Mac's wrists into the carpet. 

Vic ground himself against Mac's groin. 

"I could make you come, right now." He whispered the threat. 

"You can always make me come," Mac conceded, turning his face away from Victor. "I'm not a coward. I can admit that. I can say it and still be a man." 

"You go to hell," Vic seethed. He picked Mac's hands off the rug and slammed them down. "What do you want from me?" 

"What I want, you can't do," Mac threw back at him. 

Vic raised him up and threw him back to impact with the floor. 

"I can do anything. I'm stronger than you." 

"That's right you are," Mac yelled. "You're braver too, you have more integrity, and you're not afraid to show you care." Mac narrowed his eyes and looked directly at Victor. "Except with me." 

"You don't understand." 

"No, Vic I don't. I don't understand what happened to you that you have to make sex into a test of endurance. No wonder LiAnn dumped you." 

Vic's grip on Mac tightened till he had to flex his hands to keep the circulation going. 

"I never did anything like that with her. You know that!" The last words were screamed into his face. 

"Then why do you have to always do it to me?" Mac shouted back. 

"It gets you off, too. You told me it was the most intense sex you ever had." 

"It's getting weird, Vic. I can't do it all the time." Mac's voice trailed off till it was barely a whisper. "I need some affection. I miss the intimate, good stuff." 

Vic released him immediately and rocked back on his heels. 

"This isn't going to work." Vic began to rise but Mac grabbed his arms.

"I asked you once before, you want to quit?" Mac challenged. 

Vic looked at him but soon glanced away, unable to keep in contact with the raw emotion, the need and fear in Mac's eyes. 

"No." Vic didn't hesitate this time. "But I can't be the woman." 

Mac pulled himself up to a sitting position. 

"Neither can I. But I need you to give me more." 

"What do you mean?" Vic asked warily. 

"You like it to be a challenge between us," Mac threw at him. "So, I've got a test for you. You man enough to let me make love to you?" 

"What are you talking about? You want to fuck me? No!" 

They were both kneeling, facing, each man locked in the others angry gaze. 

"I don't want to fuck you," Mac threw back at him. "Where the hell did that come from? I want to hold you and kiss you and touch you. Make love with you the way I knew before you introduced me to sex as a blood sport." 

"You mean like to a woman." Vic's tone dripped with disdain. 

"I mean like to another human being," Mac screamed. He raised his hand and held up two fingers. 

"You've got two choices, Vic." Mac's hand trembled as he showed it to Victor. "You do what I tell you, or you get out. If you leave, I'm still your partner. I'll always have your back, but there'll be no sex, of any kind, ever." 

Vic's mouth opened as he began to protest. 

Mac held up his hand to stop him. 

"It's not negotiable. Make a choice." 

Victor looked away from Mac. He was shaky from the emotions that raged in him. Anger charged his body. He felt anger at Mac for posing this ultimatum, and anger at himself for being in this position. But fear was what kept him unable to respond, although he couldn't put that name to it. He didn't want this to end. He couldn't imagine a time when he wouldn't be allowed to grab Mac, wrestle him down and feel that incredible mouth against his own. But it was all a matter of trust. And after all the betrayals Victor had suffered he wasn't certain he could give that degree of trust to anyone, even Mac. 

"I don't know what you want," Vic said and slowly lowered his head. 

The anger and impatience on Mac's face melted and concern creased his brow. He took Vic's face in his hands. He kissed him gently on the lips, trying to reassure him. 

"You just have to make a choice, Vic. I need you to give me . something. I need it to be more than a game between us." 

Victor moved his head till his temple rested against Mac's cheek. His voice was little more than a whispered plea when he spoke. 

"What do you want me to do?" 

Mac put the fingers of one hand under Vic's chin and raised his head to look at him. 

"I'm going to take my shirt off, then you put your hands on my shoulders." 

Mac quickly pulled the loose muslin shirt over his head. 

Victor brought his hands to rest tentatively on Mac's shoulders. 

"Look at me, Vic," Mac coaxed. 

Vic managed to look at Mac's mouth but couldn't meet his eyes. 

"You're so hot and fine," Mac whispered, as he reached for the front of Vic's shirt. "I know you don't believe that about yourself, but I know you are." He unbuttoned Vic's shirt, unbuckling the heavy leather belt he wore before he pulled the garment out of Vic's jeans and undid the last button. 

"I use to ask LiAnn 'what do you see in that guy?'" Mac said, trailing his fingers over the smooth muscled skin of Vic's bare chest. "She didn't have to tell me, 'cause I saw it too." 

He ran his hands inside the shirt, his fingers curling in a caress at Vic's neck. Then he pushed the shirt aside, brushing over the tense muscles of Vic's shoulders and back. 

"The first time I saw you," Mac whispered next to Vic's ear as he pushed the shirt off to puddle on the floor, "in her apartment, it flashed through my mind even then, he's prime." 

Mac kissed him, slowly, his mouth sliding over the contours, probing the hollow of Vic's parted lips. 

Mac broke away and took a deep breath. He rested his forehead against Vic's. 

"And you've had the advantage over me ever since." 

"Mac," Vic whispered. "I don't want to quit. It's just..." His voice trailed off. 

"I know, Vic. I'm afraid too." 

Mac pulled him into a firm embrace. They held each other for a long time, till finally each relaxed enough to stroke the other. 

"Want to go in the bedroom?" Mac asked as Vic's fingers made little circles over the small of his back. 

Vic nodded his head against Mac's shoulder. 

They stood and Mac turned Vic around, pointing him towards the bedroom. "I want to get something. I'll be right in." 

When Mac entered the room Vic was already in bed, propped against the headboard. Covered by a sheet his lower body presented a sleek outline, punctuated by a healthy erection under the soft cotton fabric. 

"What've you got?" Vic pointed at the objects Mac carried in on a folded white towel. 

"Here, smell," he said as he offered a tube of red paisley to Vic then finished undressing himself. 

Vic took what felt like a beanbag, warm and nubby to the touch, and sniffed. It was aromatic with herbs and the sharp note of pine. 

"What is this?" 

"It's an herbal wrap, filled with rice. You heat it in the microwave and put it on your body where you ache. The heat radiates out and makes you feel better." 

Mac took the hem of the sheet and pulled it away revealing Vic's body and his dusky cock. 

"So where do you ache, Vic?" Mac gave him a wicked grin. 

Vic laughed. caught off guard by the idea. 

"Lie down," Mac encouraged as he took the wrap from Vic's hands. 

Vic scooted down the bed till he lay flat, his head cradled on two down pillows. 

"This is going to feel so good," Mac assured him and wound the warm, scented wrap around Vic's erection. 

The sensation was incredible. Vic arched off the bed, as the all encompassing warmth seemed to draw pleasure, heat, and desire to a throbbing focal point between his legs.

Mac pulled off two rubber bands that braceleted his wrist and secured the herb wrap, base and top. Just the head of Vic's penis peeked from the muffler of red paisley. Then Mac took both hands and gently squeezed the wrap. 

Vic writhed beneath the torturous pleasure. 

"Good, huh? All that heat and those little crunchy bits of rice tickling everywhere. I'll get another one of these and sometime we'll see who can last the longest." 

"It's too good," Vic moaned and placed his hands on Mac's to get him to stop. It was so different letting Mac do these things to him. It was hard not to grab him, throw him down and take the game from him. But all his senses seemed heightened by giving in to Mac. The slightest touch reverberated through his nerves. And he was not distracted by of what he could do to make Mac concede. Victor only had the ever increasing pleasure to hold onto, and it threatened to overwhelm him. 

Mac stopped massaging the wrap and Vic exhaled, grateful for the break, yet almost regretting the loss of titillation. 

"I'm going to make you come without touching your cock," Mac said in a husky whisper before his mouth covered Vic's. More warmth accompanied the kiss, along with the rich, sweet scent of herbs and pine as Mac caressed him with a smaller square wrap held in the palm of his hand. 

Wonderful diverse sensations tantalized Vic. Mac's soft full lips sucked and pressed at Vic's mouth. Mac's tongue darted in to tease against his own. His long fingers trailed light maddening touches over Vic's bare shoulder and down his arm to tickle briefly over his palm. Warmth radiated up his thighs as Mac pressed the small pad of heated rice and herbs along the inside of his legs. The soft flannel of the cover, the prickle of the points of the rice raised goosebumps as Mac ever-so- lightly moved it over the fine hairs on his sensitized skin. 

Vic had never experienced sex like this. He had never been the object of another's desire. Sex had always been something he _did_ to someone else. It was either an ordeal, trying to get some response, or done quickly to avoid rejection. He had experienced new intensity of sensation with Mac as they escalated their 'extreme sport', but nothing compared to this. 

His cock jumped in the heated confines of the wrap. 

Mac broke their kiss and laughed softly when he felt the twitch. 

"Feel like you're about to explode?" 

Vic moaned as the idea made his muscle bound again. 

"Pervert," he managed, his voice low and heavy with need. "You've done this to yourself, haven't you?" 

"Not exactly like this. But I've thought a lot about doing it to you." 

"Do it," Vic pleaded. "Touch me. Mac, I'm in misery! Touch me." 

"I told you, no cock." Mac ran the heated square of nubby rice over one of Vic's nipples, drawing a shivery moan at the luscious sensation. 

"I'm going to kiss you." Mac slid down Vic's body and ran his tongue up the inside of his legs. 

"You're trying to kill me," Vic said through clinched teeth. 

"I'm going to pet you," Mac told him, as his free hand teased at Vic's taut balls, while the hand holding the small wrap massaged the warmth into his stomach. 

"Mac, I need it your hand to get me off." 

"You don't need it," Mac chastised softly. 

Vic thought he would go crazy at the building sensations that plagued his body. Unrelenting, unremitting, ceaseless, unbearable, unendurable, hundreds of words for the erotic sensual torture he was being subjected to stormed in his mind. Finally, a ceaseless chant of 'I can't take it' repeated over and over again till his excited nerve endings seemed to throb to its cadence. 

Mac moved up his body, trailing more sensation as he went, till he was spooned against Vic's side, kissing his neck, leaving small pecks along his tense jaw line. 

"Come for me, baby," Mac cooed between kisses. "Just let it happen." He gently crushed the warm scrunchy wrap over first one nipple then the other. 

The sensation melted into Vic's bones. Everywhere he was touched sparked directly to his cock. The tip of his penis, the only part exposed to the air, was cool from its coating of precum. It was a delicious, distracting contrast to the pulsing heat that radiated from the wrap bound around him. Expanding universe, expanding cock, big bang, unimaginable orgasm, his mind was beyond sense. He existed only in the widening, increasing, swelling mass of flesh that threatened to go nova. 

And Mac kept up his chant: 

"Come for me, baby" 

And Victor kept counterpoint with his: 

_I can't take it._

Light flashed behind his closed eyelids and the pleasure hot and fast, cool and sweet raised his shoulders off the bed. An effortless flood of ecstasy swept through every cell, washing away his bones, his muscles, his being. 

He lay panting, feeling Mac press against him. 

The wrap was removed from his shrinking cock and the coolness of the air brought him back. 

He opened his eyes and saw Mac toss the herb wraps to the floor. Mac picked up the towel and wiped Vic clean. He peppered a few kisses on Vic's still sensitive, but limp, member making him squirm at the sensation. 

Mac rocked back on his heels and began to stroke himself. 

"No, wait," Victor raised himself from the bed. 

"I can't wait," Mac said, his voice thick with necessity. 

Vic pulled him down on the bed and swiftly arranged himself over Mac's loins. In a second he had Mac's engorged dick in his mouth. 

Mac moaned and squirmed at the feeling. 

In another second Vic was gagging. 

"Sorry," he coughed, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and tried again. He gagged even sooner this time. 

Mac winced as teeth dragged along his length. 

When Vic came up for air this time Mac stopped him. 

"You don't have to do this, Vic." 

"I want to." He was about to go down again when Mac took his face in his hands. 

"Vic don't. Just do this." Mac thrust the flat of his index finger between Vic's lips as he tried to speak. "Put your lips on the underside of the shaft and stick out your tongue a little." He mimicked the directions with his finger. "Just move your mouth up and down and suck." 

Vic put his lips to Mac's cock and in moments the other man was writhing beneath him. Vic worked him till his gasps and moans blended into a jerking cry and Mac spilled himself. 

Mac relaxed back onto the bed. His hand went to his forehead as he let out a deep breath. 

"Wow," he said in a blissful, spent voice. "That mouth is as sweet as it looks." 

He glanced down as he felt Vic using the towel to clean him. When he finished Mac leaned towards him and took the towel away. 

"Here," he said and put his hand on the back of Vic's head. "You got a little on your cheek." He dabbed at the tiny spattering of come on Vic's face. Mac completed the task by rubbing his thumb across the skin to make sure it was dry. His face clouded, a curious frown narrowing his eyes. 

"You shaved," he accused. "You shaved before you came over tonight." 

Vic smiled and kissed him lightly on the lips. 

"Of course I did. I always shave before a date." 

"A date," Mac's voice rose in protest. "You mean after everything you put me through, you thought of it as a date too?" 

Vic just nodded. 

Mac shook his head, and a smile of disbelief erased the frown. 

"God, Mansfield. You can be such a dick." 

"Get use to it." Vic pulled Mac into his arms. "I'm your dick, now." 

* * *

FANDOM: Once a Theif   
PAIRING: Victor Mansfield and Mac Ramsey   
RATING: NC-17 M/M sex, language.   
STATUS: COMPLETE   
ARCHIVE: RatB, Calculated Risks http://denofsin.slashcity.tv/~lefey   
FEEDBACK: Please. [email removed]   
SERIES: So Inclined   
DISCLAIMER: They belong to Alliance and John Woo.   
SUMMARY: Vic is in denial and Mac is in need.   
---


	4. Connected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mac and Vic drink, challenge each other and slash ensues, yet again.

Go to notes and disclaimers 

  
**Part Four  
Connected**

Mac straightened the silk tie he had knotted for Vic. Black, shot through with an abstract pattern of emerald green, it went perfectly with the elegant charcoal suit Mac had had specially tailored as Victor's birthday present. He smoothed the collar of the finely woven ivory shirt, and took Vic by the shoulders, holding him at arm's length. 

"You look good enough to eat," he said in his best seductive whisper. 

Vic rolled his shoulders out of Mac's grasp while his cheeks tinted crimson. 

"Yeah? Well, save that for later," he teased back. He poked a finger inside the edge of his collar and pulled a little. 

"This is an incredible suit." His eyes met Mac's and the sincerity in what he was saying was unmistakable. "I've never had anything like this, ever." His hand moved automatically to slightly loosen the tie's knot. "I'm not really comfortable in clothes like this." 

"You look great!" Mac insisted as he ran his hands over Vic's arms. Since Victor had put on the suit Mac could barely keep his hands off of him. "You should wear things like this all the time. You've got the perfect body for tailored clothes, broad shoulders and a narrow waist. You've got the height..." 

Victor took Mac's hands in his, in order to stop the petting that continued as he spoke. 

"These clothes are you," Vic said quietly but firmly. "I love that you did this for me, but it's not me, Mac." 

"It could be, Vic. If you just gave it a chance." 

"Stop trying to change me," Vic snapped as he dropped Mac's hands. 

Mac studied him for a moment before he answered. 

"I wasn't... I don't..." 

Vic reached out and drew him into his arms. 

"Sorry," he said, his lips pressed against the other man's cheek. "My temper." He gave Mac a firm squeeze. "I know that's not an excuse." 

"I just see so much more in you, Vic." 

Victor disentangled himself as Mac began an all too familiar argument. Vic kissed him briefly hoping to shut him up. When it didn't work he walked towards the door. 

"What time are the reservations?" he interrupted. 

Mac looked startled for a moment but then shrugged and took a deep breath. He was becoming used to Vic winning arguments by not arguing. 

"Wait! Wait," he urged when he saw Vic's hand on the doorknob. "I've got something else." 

"Mac, no!" Vic called after him as he disappeared into the bedroom. 

In a moment he returned carrying a full-length garment bag adorned with a bow. 

Vic had his hands up trying to fend off the gift. 

"Mac, this is too much." 

"Too much is never enough, Baby." Mac was grinning as he held the present out to Vic. "Besides, it's the middle of November. I'm not having you freeze that prize ass off. And you can't wear that damn jacket over this suit." 

Vic started to unfasten the bow but Mac was too impatient. He ripped it off and tossed it aside. Mac had the bag open and discarded and was beaming as he held up a long black topcoat. 

Vic reached for it hesitantly; certain that as his hand neared Mac would have it on him before he could even touch it. To his surprise Mac stayed still and gave a look of near lust when Vic's fingers stroked the soft fabric of the lapel. 

"My God, Mac. This is too much." 

"It's cashmere. Hugo Boss. I bought it after you had the suit fitted. I gave it to your tailor to alter." He slipped the coat off the hanger and held it open to reveal the lush maroon silk lining. "It's going to fit you like a glove." 

Vic wanted to say he didn't have a tailor. He had Thrifty's, Mark's Work Warehouse, and a Sears catalogue. The guy was Mac's tailor. Vic just smiled and shook his head at the thought of the improbable amount of money Mac had spent on these clothes. Still he had promised himself earlier that he wasn't going to say anything. He was going to make nice. He wasn't going to spoil anything. This was Mac's birthday. 

That idea brought him up short. It was the first time he'd actually put into words, even if it was only in his thoughts, what he was feeling. Mac was pushing the coat on him, admonishing him to hold his cuffs as he drew the sleeves up. Any protest on Vic's part seemed useless at the moment. He was being dressed like a precious child being sent out into the snow. 

"When did you... Where did you hide this?" He managed as Mac did up the last button. 

"I brought it over this afternoon. Remember? You were in the shower when I came in. I took your suit out and just hung the coat in the closet. You never noticed." 

"Crafty," Vic conceded as Mac flashed him a smug grin. 

"Come in the bedroom and look at it. You have to see it in a full length mirror." 

Mac hustled him off to the bedroom and closed the door so Vic could admire himself in the mirror that hung on the back of the door. 

Victor looked at his image. There was a vague resemblance to the Victor Mansfield he knew. He looked older in these clothes. They made him appear self-important and decadent. Mac hovering behind him like an attending manservant only increased this patrician air. 

"You like it?" Mac asked and the certainty that _Mac_ did honeyed his voice. 

"I look like a Mafia Don." 

Mac stopped fussing for a moment and answered the remark with a dismissive snort. 

"Right. The only English-Irish, freckled, ex-Catholic Mafia Don in the world." He had resumed brushing invisible specks of lint from Victor's shoulders as he finished talking. His hands moved to Vic's hair and he ruffled it. "You ever think about growing your hair out a little? Longer hair is really in now. We've still got time, let me spike your hair up." 

Victor batted at Mac's hand and twisted away from him. He saw the beginning of a hurt frown when he turned. 

"We better leave." Vic tried to gloss over his curt movements. "I'm getting really warm in this coat." 

Mac smiled again. "It's great, isn't it?" He leaned near Vic and his voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "There's a pair of Armani gloves in the pocket." 

Vic slumped with exasperation. 

"Mac, for Christ sake. This really _is_ too much." 

He pulled the black leather gloves from one deep silk-lined pocket when it looked like Mac would do it for him. 

"Thank you, Mac," He said as he pulled on one of the gloves. "But you've got to stop..." The sentence trailed off as Vic flexed his hand inside the buttery soft leather. He looked up, astonishment lighting his features. "These are damn nice gloves!" 

"You've proved to be worth it," Mac countered and placed a kiss on Vic's half open mouth. The kiss quickly grew from affectionate to wanton. 

Vic allowed himself a minute of play as the knowing, soft caress of Mac's tongue sent a delicious heat through his body, but when he felt the tickle as his cock responded he gently pushed the other man away. 

"Stop," he mumbled half-heartedly. "Don't do that before we go out." 

Mac leaned in to give him one more quick teasing kiss. "That's just a little taste of what's going to happen later tonight." 

* * *

"I could learn how to make this," Vic said as he sopped up the remaining garlic butter from his escargot with a piece of crusty French bread. "That cooking school I went to had lots of classes on French cuisine." 

"Well, don't bother on my account," Mac popped off as he finished his last bite of pate. "I can't believe you won't touch eel, octopus, shark fin soup or urchin yet you'll go on about how delicious slugs are." 

"They're snails," Vic corrected. "And besides it's the sauce." 

"That's another point, everything on the menu has enough fat in it to give you an instant coronary." 

"Everything you eat is loaded with salt. The Chinese have the highest rate of hypertension in the world. And it's because of all the salt in the food." 

"Thank you, Doctor Mansfield." 

"Why'd you bring me here if you don't like the food?" Vic asked sharply. 

Mac looked up, surprised by the tone. "I like the food. I...I... thought we were just bitching like we usually do. I didn't mean anything by it. Jeez, you're touchy tonight! I came here because I knew you'd like it." 

"So, you did this for me?" There was a note of disbelief in Vic's tone. 

"Of course I did. It's your birthday." 

"That's the rumor," Vic shot back. 

"What's that suppose to mean?" 

"Nothing." Vic took a sip of his expensive microbrewery beer and glanced around. The restaurant was very elegant. There was a scattering of couples, a man with two older women, some obvious business duos and a few tables occupied by two men and a woman. Everyone was dressed well; some people almost as turned out as Victor. He let the spike of anger fade that came with thinking this night was really for Mac's benefit. This _was_ a setting for special occasions. 

"This is a very nice place. Thanks, Mac." 

"See, I know what you like. I wanted some place nice." 

Vic was relaxed and enjoying himself when the meal was over and small cups of rich dark coffee arrived. He had even kept his mouth shut when Mac had slipped his hand along his thigh under the cover of the starched linen tablecloth. He decided that he would let Mac do whatever he liked, short of kissing him, as long as he was discreet. This was probably the first and last time they'd ever come to this restaurant so he'd indulge his affectionate partner. 

"You've got the most beautiful eyes," Mac said and leaned close to him. "Those lashes are just killer." 

Vic gave an embarrassed laugh and sat back in his chair. 

"Lose the pickup lines," Vic teased. "You've already got me in bed." 

"I can't help it. Being here with you... it just... well, it just brings out the romantic in me." 

Vic laughed aloud at that. "I think it's all that wine you drank that brings out the bullshit artist in you." 

Mac turned suddenly and felt for his belt. 

"My pager went off." 

"I didn't hear anything," Vic said. 

"I've got it on vibrate." 

"Oh!" Vic laughed softly. "Do you two want to be alone?" 

"I left the phone in the car. Will you be okay here for a minute, Baby?" He reached out to touch Vic's cheek but the hand was intercepted and pushed down. 

"Mac, be careful," Vic warned in a harsh whisper. 

"Nobody here..." 

"Just go answer your page." Vic cut him off. 

"I'm going to start calling you Sybil," Mac groused as he stood up. "I'll be back in a minute." 

Vic watched him walk away. This was his own fault. He should know better than give Mac his head. He had no restraint, no sense of where he was. He'd let his guard down once before and humored Mac by going to one of those techno-clubs he liked. Not only had he insisted that they dance to the so-called music, but Mac had shoved him against a wall and attempted to make-out. Granted there were several other couples, straight, gay and unidentifiable around, doing a lot more than sticking their hands down the front of their partners pants. That didn't make Vic feel any less angry and certainly didn't prevent the fight that split them up for two weeks. 

He picked up a piece of orange flavored Turkish delight from the small silver dish that accompanied the coffee. Vic popped it in his mouth and wiped the powdered sugar from his fingers with the heavy linen napkin still on his lap. He washed the exquisite sweetness from his mouth with a sip of coffee and looked towards the foyer waiting for Mac's return. 

"Excuse me?" 

Vic looked up at the sound of the masculine voice. The man standing by the table was tall, with chiseled features and intense blue eyes set in a tanned face. He extended his hand as soon as Vic looked at him. 

"Hi, I'm Ross Coltrane." 

Vic took his hand, noting the firm handshake. 

"Do I know you?" Vic asked instead of introducing himself. 

"No. No you don't. Mind if I sit down?" He motioned at the chair beside him. 

Vic nodded. 'This is just great', he thought. 'Mac leaves me alone and I get jumped by ... what? ...Probably an insurance salesman.' 

The man flashed an appealing smile after he sat down and Vic was certain he wanted something. 

"Did your friend leave?" 

"Ah... No." Vic motioned towards the foyer. "He left his phone in the car. He'd gotten a page." 

"Oh?" The man looked disappointed at the explanation. "I thought he'd left." 

Vic simply shook his head no. 

"I see." He shrugged a little and continued. "I'm here with my mother and my Aunt, her sister. It's my Aunt's birthday and..." He smiled and dipped his head then looked up at Vic, his cheeks misted pink. "You don't need to hear all that. Anyway I was... ah...we were watching... Well, we thought your friend had left and we just wanted to ask you to join us." 

"That's very nice of you, ah, Ross," Vic started uncertain of what this was all about, "but he'll be back in a minute. Thanks anyway." 

"Of course. You're welcome." He smiled at Vic again and then looked down and studied the tablecloth for a moment. "I'm sorry," he said finally. "I'm not very good at this. I just thought..." He looked up and the intensity of his attention froze Vic. "Somebody like you doesn't come along every day. I had to at least try." 

Vic shifted uneasily in his chair. 

"Are you..." he struggled to get the words out. "Are you trying to pick me up?" 

"Failing, I'd say." The man gave a resigned laugh. "I wasn't thinking of it as a pick-up really. I just wanted to meet you. I'm sorry to bother you." 

"It's no bother," Vic said quickly. He could feel the heat rise in his face. 

"I've embarrassed you. I'm sorry." 

"No," Vic assured him but knew his face must be glowing. "Well, yeah. I mean..." He laughed suddenly unable to control the foolish reaction. 

The man had a bemused look on his face. 

"My God, you're charming," he told Vic. "You really have no idea the impression you make." 

Vic stammered a little. He wanted to explain that the clothes were somebody else's idea, and he usually looked pretty ordinary and he didn't understand why he felt so damn flattered that another _man_ found him charming, but all he could manage to do was laugh again. 

The man across the table from him laughed as well. 

"You still haven't told me your name," he said after they'd sat in silence and stared at one another for a long moment. 

Vic reached out his hand. "Mansfield. Vic Mansfield." And they shook hands again. 

"Let me make some reparation for all this nonsense. Are you and your friend going into the lounge to dance, later? I'd like to buy you a bottle of champagne to make amends." 

Vic straightened, then sat forward in his chair. 

"What's this about dancing?" 

The man brightened at the question. 

"There is a huge dance floor in the lounge and a very good band. If you're going to stay for the evening I'll come back after I take my Mother and Aunt home. That is if I can steal you away from your friend for a dance." 

"And they don't mind men dancing together here?" 

The man laughed. "You've never been here before, have you? The majority of the patrons here are gay. It's a very nice place to bring relatives and the lounge is more upscale than most places." 

It was all falling into place now. This restaurant was Mac's idea. All the petting, the sweet talk was all just the lead-in to the real reason they were here. Mac wanted to dance. Mac always wanted to dance; the more public the venue the better. That fucking little shit had set him up. Vic could feel the warmth of his embarrassment turn to the heat of anger. 

"Are you going to stay and dance?" the man asked when Vic didn't answer. 

"Ah..." Vic stammered as he came back to the conversation. "Dancing? No, sorry. I don't dance." 

"Oh..." the word was finished with a disappointed sigh. He suddenly reached inside his jacket and withdrew his wallet. He produced a business card. 

"Like I said, I'm not very good at this." He placed the card on the table in front of Victor. "If you ever want to... well... I'd like to take you out some time. Just call me if you'd like." He extended his hand once more. "I have to get back to my family." 

Vic took his hand and smiled. He picked up the card with his free hand. 

"Thanks." 

The one word brought a very big smile from the man before he turned and walked back to his table. 

A moment later Mac slid back into his seat. 

"What did that guy want?" 

"Who was on the phone?" Vic looked into his coffee cup. 

Mac laughed. "That was LiAnn. She was fanging me about taking you out to dinner without including her. Whoa, is she pissed!" 

"She's not the only one," Vic said and turned to look at Mac. 

"What?" The smile faded quickly from Mac's face. 

"You want to know what that guy wanted?" 

"I asked, didn't I." Mac's tone was growing defensive as he watched the color flare across Vic's cheeks. 

"He thought you'd left. He was hitting on me. Seems this place accommodates upscale gays. There's dancing later, but I guess you knew that." 

Mac flashed that ingratiating kid grin, but it was only half-hearted. He knew he'd been caught big-time. 

"That was supposed to be a little surprise." 

"It's turned out to be a big lie." 

Victor took his wallet from his inside jacket pocket. He fished out a pair of big bills and placed them on the table in front of Mac. 

"There's my half of the meal." He started to rise but Mac grabbed his arm, stopping him. 

"Vic, this is my treat." He pushed the money back towards Vic who didn't touch it. "It's your birthday. I'm getting this." 

"You're not _getting it_ at all. I don't like to be played for a fool." 

Vic jerked his arm out of Mac's grasp as best he could without drawing attention to them; then he stood and walked away. 

* * *

Mac found Victor sitting in the car. He looked away as Mac entered. 

"You forgot your coat," he told him as he draped the garment along the minimal backseat of the sports car. 

"It's your coat," Vic replied, his tone flat and dismissive. 

"Vic, please don't do this." Mac reached out to touch him but Victor moved his arm away. 

"Just drop me at home." 

"Can't we at least talk about this? It's not fair that you always pull this silence crap on me when things don't go your way." 

Victor turned in the seat. He glared at Mac his eyes bright and narrowed with anger. 

"You've got a lot of goddamn balls to say something like that to me. This whole night has been about you." He punched the eject button on the in-dash CD player and snatched the disk that popped out. "We listened to this noise, Rocket Cramps or Monkey Crap or whatever the hell this trash is called all the way over here tonight." 

He held the CD up, the parking lot lights glinting off the silver-tone surface. 

"You know I hate this stuff. You were certainly thinking of me there." He flung the CD and it clattered against the back window. 

"Hey, that's an import," Mac protested as he glanced to see where the disk had landed. "They're hard to come by." The words trailed off as he looked back at Vic and was met with an angry scowl. "I took you to the nicest place I know where we could really be out together." 

"I don't want to be _out_ Mac. My sexuality is my private business." 

"I'm not ashamed to let people know I'm with you," Mac challenged. "You're an incredible looking guy, when you're dressed right. I leave you alone for a couple of minutes, and somebody is already after you. Somebody who is pretty damn sharp himself." 

"When I'm dressed right?" Vic shook his head. "That's really what this is all about, isn't it? You just want me to be the right accessory for you. You treated women that way; why should I think it would be any different with me." 

Mac reached in the back seat and held up the coat. 

"I bought this coat for..." 

Vic cut him off. "You bought all these clothes for yourself. Ever since we first picked out cloth for this suit you've been treating me like some life-size Ken doll. You gave me these things so you could play dress-up with me." 

"Can I help it if there's a dress code at this restaurant? And you wouldn't be allowed in wearing those thrift-store rags you're so fond of," Mac shot back. 

"I never wanted to come here in the first place," Vic bellowed. 

"I didn't know that," Mac said quietly. 

"That's a fucking lie, and you know _that_. I told you all I wanted to do on my birthday was go to Parker's for ribs and spend the evening at the Blue Note listening to music. You asked me what I wanted to do four different times. I think each time you hoped I'd change my mind. You knew damn well what I wanted. You are just too fucking self- centered to do anything but what Mac Ramsey wants." 

"I'm trying to show you there's more to life than watching sports on television, drinking watery beer and wearing the same pair of cheap jeans." Mac's voice escalated to a frustrated crescendo. 

Vic gave him a bitter smile. "You know, if there is a woman in this so-called relationship it's you. All you've tried to do from the minute we got together is change me." 

Mac stiffened at the comment. 

"Vic, I'm tired of you always saying that I'm an insult to your perfect, fucking masculinity. Especially, since you're so insecure about it you can't even admit we have sex. You have to pretend it's some perverted sadistic game." 

Mac saw the reaction, the shadow that washed over Vic's face and would have given anything to take back his words. 

"Vic... I... ah..." 

Victor reached for the door handle and froze as Mac grabbed his arm. 

"Vic don't leave. Let me make it up to you." 

Vic didn't look at him, he didn't move. His voice was low and deadly when he spoke. 

"Let go of me Mac, or I'm going to say some things you don't want to hear." 

There was no resistance, this time, as Vic turned and opened the door. 

Mac sat in stunned silence for a few minutes. But then he gathered up the cashmere coat Vic had left and went off to find him. He didn't have to go far. As he rounded the corner of the restaurant Vic was standing out front. For just a second Mac thought he was waiting for a cab, and that he could persuade him to get back in the car and let Mac take him home. 

Then he heard the introductions as Vic met the two women who were with the man from the restaurant. Mac heard Vic's voice rise in interest. He knew the tone; he knew the reaction Vic could evoke when he turned his attention on someone. In a moment everyone was smiling and each women seemed to take turns touching Vic's arm as they spoke with him. 

Mac felt like he was anchored to the sidewalk. He clutched the coat to his chest and watched as the man clapped Vic on the back and Vic turned and smiled at him as well. 

How could Vic just walk around a corner and out of his life? Mac was numb and racked with pain at the same time. The conflict froze him not giving him an option but to watch these people take Vic away from him. What could he do? Storm up and make a scene? Vic would have a fit. Vic didn't like him when he was being nice let alone... A small gasp shook him. The words had come so easily, the most natural thing to think. Vic didn't like him. How many times, when they first met and were fighting for possession of LiAnn, had Vic told him that? Later, when they began to make love and brought each other to the edge of exhaustion it had become a joke. "I don't even like you," Vic would say with a slaked smile, and Mac would respond with a contented sigh, "Don't like _you_ much, either." The phrase that had started in hatred had grown to be the substitute for the words they couldn't say. Mac had never thought it could go full circle, but standing here, watching Vic give the attention that Mac craved so badly to strangers, he was afraid it _was_ true. Vic didn't like him. 

A limousine pulled up and as the door was opened the two women entered. Then Vic was ushered into the car as well. 

Mac watched the car pull slowly away from the curb. Traffic was heavy. He'd have no trouble following them. 

* * *

Vic wedged himself into the corner of the elevator as it rose to the fourth floor and his apartment. He was in a foul mood and glad to be alone. Mac had pissed him off for the last time. 

He lashed out and slammed his fist into the elevator wall. The car vibrated from the impact. 

It had been all he could do to play nice during the limo drive home. Ross never asked what happened; why he was waiting for a cab, but he was a little too pleased that Vic needed a ride, and he was a way too insistent that Vic should join the three of them when his family went skiing next week. Vic wanted to tell him he wasn't interested in guys, only in one guy. 

The thought made him cringe. As the elevator doors opened he walked through, shaking his head. He only wanted to be with Mac, and Mac would only be satisfied if they wound up having their hair done together. 

Vic took his keys from his pocket. This was best. It was over. He'd been alone before and lived to tell about it. He'd been alone a lot and hated it. He stood for a moment and swallowed trying to rid himself of the idea. He should be standing here with Mac trying to fish his keys out of his pocket as Mac pushed him against the wall, teasing and licking and biting while Vic struggled to unlock the door. 

Vic jerked his head a little as the image generated a blush across his cheeks. Things were just too complicated with Mac. This was best. 

He slid the key in the lock and eased open the door. The lights he'd turned off were on and a figure moved towards him. Vic's hand rose to the inside of his jacket. 

"Leave the piece alone, Vic," the tall dark-haired man said as he stepped in front of him. He held out an ID badge. 

Vic recognized it as Agency issue but kept his hand on the gun. He looked at the badge then at the fellow smiling hopefully at him. It was the same guy. He was olive skinned and handsome in an exotic way, Greek or maybe Latin, it was hard to tell. He was dressed in fitted gray slacks and a royal blue V-necked sweater that gave him a casual elegance. Vic knew the type. This was the sort of slick, always-at-ease bastard that instantly made Vic feel like a dork. He was in no mood for this. 

"Who the hell are you?" 

"Elliot Hampton." He held out an envelope with Vic's name written on it in the Director's unmistakable handwriting. 

Vic slumped. 

"What does she want?" His hand left the gun and he began to pull his tie off as he pushed past Elliot and walked into the living room. 

"You could look at the card and find out," Elliot suggested as he followed Vic across the room. 

Vic took off his jacket and tossed it across the back of the couch. He stripped off his gun and holster, depositing them on the coffee table. 

During all this Elliot stood patiently offering the card. 

Finally, with a disgusted grunt Vic took it. 

He slipped the card from the envelope and read it. 

"Section Six," he said, a note of skepticism rising in his voice. "I thought that was some...myth or something." He looked up from the card. "The agency's version of a dirty joke." 

Elliot smiled pleasantly at him and held out his hands as if showing himself off. 

"I'm very real, and so is Section Six." 

Victor's eyes narrowed. "Then that would make you an agency whore." 

Elliot lowered his hands. 

"My, my Vic. I never knew you had such a mean streak. Actually, that would make me your birthday present." 

"I'm not interested," Vic said as he dropped the card on the coffee table and walked into the kitchen in search of a beer. "Get out." 

"I can't, Vic. She sent me here for you, well, you and Mac. Where is Mac, by the way?" 

"Ask someone who cares," Vic said as he walked back into the living room, beer in hand. 

"Oh, does that mean you..." 

"It means I'm not interested in adding to her video collection. Now, get the hell out before I put you out." 

"You mind if I have a beer?" Elliot asked and motioned towards the kitchen. 

Vic stopped on his way to the bedroom and turned, frustration balling his free hand. 

"You've got more nerve than a sore tooth, don't you?" 

"Is that a yes?" Elliot was standing next to the couch and picked up the jacket slung across the back. "You want me to hang this up for you?" He held the jacket out and admired the garment. "Great suit." He gently draped the jacket over his arm. "Bedroom closet?" 

"Don't bother. I'll never wear it again," Vic snapped. "Now, about you leaving?" 

"You look terrific in it." Elliot smiled. "But I actually like you better in jeans and that leather jacket of yours." 

Vic gave a bitter laugh. "You're the only one." 

"You look tense," Elliot said as he walked over to stand next to Vic. "Maybe I could give you a massage and relax you." He smiled again. "I give a great massage." 

Vic threw up his hands with frustration. 

"Why am I not surprised. Where'd she find you Elliot? In a bathhouse, massage parlor or just a brothel?" 

"In point of fact, Vic," Elliot's voice took on note of anger. "I was teaching English 101 at a local Community College. I found myself frustrated and bored. You see, I have a useless liberal Arts degree, worse yet a pathetically useless Master's degree with a thesis on Cavalier poetry. I was, how does that little ditty go? Underpaid, oversexed and over the Director's knee, in that private club she frequents when career opportunity... ahem... arose. I understand she found _you_ in prison." 

"That's it!" Vic snatched the jacket from over his arm. 

"Good, so we're through insulting each other?" Elliot asked. He took the jacket back and headed for the bedroom. 

"Hey," Vic called, but the man ignored him and disappeared into the bedroom. Vic shook his head. "Fuck this, noise!" He put his beer bottle on the coffee table and prepared to throw this jerk out. 

"That's not my bed!" He shouted the moment he entered the bedroom. There in place of his comfortable, pressboard photo-veneered double bed was a gigantic, brushed-aluminum monstrosity. 

"She thought yours wasn't adequate." Elliot threw over his shoulder as he hung up Vic's jacket. 

"It's huge." Vic said, his voice wavering between disbelief and anxiety 

"You're lucky it fits in the bedroom." Elliot came to stand beside him. "If it hadn't I think she would have packed the place up and moved you into a bigger apartment." He flashed a skeptical smile "That would have been fun, trying to convince you to move on top of everything else. 

Elliot ran a hand over the brushed aluminum foot that rose in a wave, supported by posts of differing diameters, a smaller version of the headboard. "It's a little stark and techno looking for my taste but I understand it is a very good bed." 

"What's this?" Vic picked up the padded cuff of a brown leather restraint attached to one of the metal posts. As he looked he noticed the three others positioned strategically at the other side of the foot and each side of the headboard. "Is she using these instead of bows on gifts, now?" 

"She said you were into that." 

"How the hell does she know what I'm into?" 

Elliot shrugged and gave a faint smile. "She knows everything, about all of us, Vic." His voice trailed off as Vic lowered his head and silently acknowledged that no one who worked for the Director had any secrets from her. 

Elliot eased his arm around Vic's shoulder and squeezed his arm. "Don't!" Vic jerked away. He raised his hand in warning. "Don't, touch me." 

Elliot raised his hands as well, in an attempt to fend off the anger that burned in Vic's eyes. 

They both jumped when the phone rang. 

"This is Vic. You got the machine. Means I must not be here. Leave a message. I'll get back to you." 

The beep sounded and Vic dropped his head. He knew who was on the other end of the line even before the insistent voice started 

"Vic it's, me." Mac's voice sounded stressed even through the tinny speaker. "Pick up the phone." There was a silence that seemed to last forever as Mac waited for him to answer and Vic waited for _him_ to hang-up. "I know you're up there. I saw you go in." There was another pause. "Vic, I have to talk to you." 

After the last angry plea, Vic walked to the phone. 

"I don't know what I did that was so awful, but I'm sorry," Mac entreated his voice rising with frustration. "Vic, you can't do this to me!" There was a thud as if something had been struck. "Goddamn it, Victor! Pick up the phone!" 

Vic reached for the phone. In one fluid motion he picked up the receiver, reached to the cradle and broke the connection. He placed the receiver, off the hook, on the end table and turned to Elliot. 

"What did you have in mind?" 

Elliot beamed at the sudden change of circumstances. "Anything! Anything you want, baby." 

Vic snatched him up by the front of his sweater. 

"Don't call me that!" he growled. 

The smile had vanished and Elliot managed to ease himself out of Vic's grasp. He straightened his clothes and glanced at Vic whose breathing was still short and angry. 

"Is that what Mac calls you?" 

Vic scowled and raised his hand again in warning. "Just don't call me that or I'll throw your ass out of here." 

"Whatever you want, Vic," Elliot agreed. "It's just... Are you really sure you don't want Mac here? I was sent..." 

"The question is," Vic cut him off, "are you sure you want to be here? Because if you keep talking about shit I don't want to hear you're going to wear out you welcome damned fast. So, you want to be here?" Vic challenged. 

Elliot took a tentative step towards him. 

"Do I want to be here? I beat out sixteen other agents, who would have done just about anything, to be the one standing here tonight." His voice was low and seductive as he drew out the last words into a sultry whisper. 

He snaked his hand around Vic's neck and pulled him close, barely grazing his mouth with a teasing kiss. 

"Now, you tell me," he said softly his lips close enough to Vic's to make the man twitch with anticipation at each word, each kiss promised but not given. "Do you want me here?" 

Vic crushed Elliot to his chest in answer to the whispered question. His mouth covered the others, sucking and probing. In a moment Elliot had taken the kiss from him. Finally, they broke; foreheads pressed together panting gently as they still held each other tightly. 

"Nice," Elliot praised, in quiet astonishment. "You're a prize, alright." 

"I... I..." Vic started. His anger was draining away, and an uneasy embarrassment was quickly overcoming him. 

"What?" Elliot asked when he didn't continue. He took Vic's face in his hands. "What do you want, Vic?" He dusted soft kisses over the corners of Vic's mouth as he spoke, till he coaxed a shy smile from the other man. 

"I've never..." He laughed softly and looked at the ceiling before he could speak again. "I've never... not with other guys...just..." 

"I know," Elliot said trying to put him at ease. "I know men aren't your thing." He feathered more kisses over his lips before Vic could stammer anything else. "That's what makes you so special to me." 

Victor caught him up in another crushing kiss. At the end of this one, Elliot took him by the hair and pulled Vic's head back so he had to look at him. 

"What do you want, Vic?" He gave Victor's head a short, insistent shake. "What do you want me to do?" 

"Make me forget," Vic answered in a husky whisper. "I want you to take me out of my head. I want to just be in the sensation and have nothing else matter." 

"You want to try the bed?" Elliot suggested. He moved his hands from Vic's hair and trailed his open palms over the soft fabric of other man's shirt, in quiet admiration. "Because I'd bottom for you. I'd let you do anything to me." 

Vic shook his head. "No. I don't feel up to that." He looked at Elliot for just a moment, and then he lowered his eyes as shyness rouged his cheeks. "But you could do it to me." 

"Really?" Elliot hoped the gulping swallow that had accompanied the word wasn't as loud as it had sounded in his head. 

Vic put his mouth next to Elliot's ear and began to whisper. 

"I want you to make me crazy." His words were said as a hesitant appeal. This was a man who knew exactly what could be drawn from his body, but he was almost afraid to ask for it. "I want you to play with me, bring me to the edge and then deny me. I want to be tormented till I don't know where I am or who I am. I want a long, slow perfect tease that makes me forget Ma.. my name." 

Elliot gasped in a breath as Vic finished. "Are you certain that's what you want?" 

Victor raised his head and narrowed his eyes. "You can't do it?" he threw at Elliot. 

Elliot rose to the challenge by slowly pulling Vic's shirt out of his pants. 

"I can do things you never dreamed of my vanilla boy." He stared till Vic finally turned his head as his cheeks glowed red again. 

"Bedroom," Elliot told Vic and pulled him along by the front of his shirt. 

"Any rules?" Elliot asked as he unbuttoned Vic's shirt. 

"No humiliation. No pain." Vic moaned as Elliot's hands brushed over his bare chest. "If you hurt me," he managed, "I'll hurt you back. I have a temper. It's how I'm wired." 

Elliot kissed him softly. "I won't hurt you. I'll only do what you want." 

"Don't stop when I tell you to." The words rushed from Vic. 

Elliot took a step back and looked at him. 

"You want a word, a safe word?" 

Vic shook his head. "No word. I just want to be out of my head." 

Elliot put his hands back on Vic, running his fingertips over his shoulders under the finely woven shirt. Slowly, he eased the garment off as he leaned against him, his lips by Vic's ear. 

"You have to tell me a secret." 

Vic shivered as Elliot's fingers traced down his back. 

"What secret?" 

"You have to tell me about one secret place, that if you loose interest, I can do a little exploration and pump up the intensity." 

Vic was silent. 

Elliot brushed his lips over Vic's ear. 

"You're going to trust me to cuff you to that bed. Trust me with just one secret place." He moved to Vic's mouth and kissed him tenderly. "I won't torment you there. I'll just use it if things get dull." 

"My legs." Vic looked at the ceiling for a moment, then lowered his head. "The inside of my legs... thighs. Just the middle, not the back." 

"Is it a really good spot?" 

"I stroke myself there. When I jerk off. It makes me come." Vic's voice trailed off as his face flushed again. 

"Good." Elliot rewarded him with another kiss. "Put your hands on your head." 

Victor raised his arms and laced his fingers together over the top of his head. 

Elliot stroked him gently, slowly, lowering his caress to Victor's Gucci belt. He unfastened the sleek gold buckle. He carefully undid the zipper over the heated bulge in Vic's pants. When the pants were open, he let them drop to the floor. 

"Step out," he instructed. Vic took a step to the side. In a moment Elliot had his shoes and sock off as well, and was stroking his ass under the silk boxers he still wore. 

"You need these?" But he'd slipped the forest green shorts off before Vic could answer. He stepped out of them, as well, without being asked. 

Elliot stood back and admired him for a moment. Then he leaned in and stroked the back of Vic's cock as he kissed him. A sudden gasp at the sensation broke off the kiss. 

"You're a healthy boy," Elliot told him. 

"I haven't had any complaints." 

Elliot laughed softly at the unexpected comeback. 

"I bet you haven't." He kissed him once more and was surprised again when Vic kissed him back. He knew Vic was bothered tonight. He had seen the composite tape the Director had given him of Vic, at his best, playing with Mac. The slightly mocking dominance of the last kiss gave him a taste of what it must be like to be topped by Victor Mansfield. He'd have to do him justice tonight. "Get on the bed." 

Elliot quickly stripped off his own clothes as Victor lay down. Vic didn't make any effort to stretch out but kept his arms at his side. And as Elliot approached the bed he could see that his erection was fading. 

"Is this what you want, Vic?" He'd give him one more chance to back out. 

Victor closed his eyes and clutched the copper colored quilted bedspread in his fists. "Make me scream." 

Elliot took a deep breath. He thought for a second _he_ was going to scream at the very idea of taking this gorgeous man to those levels of pleasure. 

"There and beyond," he vowed aloud and secured Victor to the bed. 

Elliot explored Vic's body with his mouth and his hands teasing at his mind with lurid suggestions of what he might do. Vic was moaning and writhing within the confines of his bonds. A delicious heat was rising from him as Elliot sensitized his skin. He found a particularly good place around the deeply indented navel that made Vic buck and his cock weep when Elliot licked him there. He was tantalizing the spot by gently scraping his teeth across the skin while he feathered his fingertips up the underside of Vic's shaft, when he heard his cell phone ring. 

Vic pitched forward at the sound. 

"Don't answer it," he said his voice low and heavy with arousal. 

"Nothing's going to stop me," Elliot promised with a wicked grin. He returned to the spot with added fervor and Vic was gasping as the phone stopped ringing. 

In a moment the phone started again. This time in a rhythmic ring, two short rings one long. 

"Shit!" Elliot spit out the word. 

"Don't," Vic said, barely able to say the one word. 

Elliot ignored him and rose from the bed. He reached for something on the new glass and chrome nightstand next to the bed. There were several things resting there that Elliot had set out when he first arrived. 

He came back to the bed, the phone still ringing tenaciously. He tunneled his hand around Vic's stiffened cock and stroked him teasingly, with just enough pressure to stimulate every nerve but give no satisfaction. 

Victor moaned out his frustration. 

"Hold that thought, Lover," Elliot told him and snapped something on around the base of his dusky cock. 

Vic arched up as if in orgasm. 

"You may think you're going to come," Elliot whispered to Vic, "but there is no way with that baby on." 

Vic thrust his hips up in a useless parody of sex. 

"What? No one ever used a cock ring on you? You're in for some fun tonight. You think you've been on the edge before, you're going to be dangling over the precipice with this." 

The phone continued to ring. 

"Enough!" Elliot snapped as he rose from the bed. "Bitch," he mumbled as he neared the suede and brushed aluminum chair that had come with the bed. His jacket was draped over the back. He retrieved his cell phone from an inside pocket and flipped it open. 

"Yes," he said in a disgusted tone. He listened for a moment. 

"Well, we're a little busy right now." 

After another minute of silence he responded, "It is _his_ birthday." 

He only listened for a second. "He doesn't want that." Pause. "Because he told me. He told me what he wants and believe me _he's_ not part..." 

Elliot drew in an annoyed deep breath as he was cut off and shifted the phone to his other ear. 

"That's not what I'm saying." Pause. "I've never questioned..." 

Elliot held the phone out at arm's length and whispered vehemently, "And may a _house_ fall on _your_ sister." He put the phone back to his ear. "What? No, I didn't say anything." He grimaced as the conversation continued on the other end of the phone. "Yes. Yes," he finally conceded. "I'll do it as soon as you let me off the phone. What?" His brows rose with surprise. "Thank you. It's not difficult to be creative with him. Hello? Hello?" 

He snapped the phone shut. 

"That woman has the social skills of a marauding barbarian." 

Elliot reached down and snagged his own silk shorts that he'd discarded on the floor. He pulled them on and went to kneel on the bed next to Vic. 

"Don't leave me," Vic managed as he tossed his head from side to side. "Don't leave me like this." 

Elliot held his head still. "I have to do something." He kissed him, running his tongue between the parted lips. "I won't be more than five minutes." 

Vic moaned a protest. 

"I promise," Elliot assured him and rose from the bed. 

He left the bedroom, closing the door behind him. He walked through the living room and picked up both his ID and the Director's birthday card on his way. Elliot took a deep breath and looked himself over, before his hand went to the doorknob. 

"Thanks," he said sarcastically when he noticed his lack of erection as he smoothed his shorts. 

He opened the door just as Mac was about to knock. He put his badge up at eye level for the startled man to read and thrust the card into his hand. He grabbed him by the sleeve and pulled him into the apartment. 

"I'm Elliot Hampton. The Director sent me as a birthday present for Vic." He shook his head correcting himself. "She sent me for Vic and you." 

Mac looked up from the card. "Section Six? I thought that was a joke." 

Elliot gave an exasperated shrug. "Why does everyone say that?" 

Mac tossed the card aside and scowled. "Where's Vic? Why are you in your underwear?" 

"Vic's in the bedroom and..." Before Elliot could continue Mac turned and had his hand on the doorknob. 

Elliot took hold of him and made him stop. 

"Look, I'm here for both of you." He didn't really want to say it but knew it was expected of him. "Vic really wants to be with you tonight. He's mad about something, he wouldn't tell me what, but you're the one he wants." 

Mac turned slowly. "Did he say that?" 

"Trust me Mac, he doesn't have to. It's really obvious." Elliot reached out and took the coat from over Mac's arm. His eye's widened as he touched the soft fabric. "Luscious coat." 

"Hugo Boss," Mac said. "It's Vic's birthday present. One of them, anyway. One of the many he doesn't want." His voice trailed off into a sad sigh. 

"The suit was yours?" 

Mac nodded. 

"You have great taste." Elliot reached out and pulled him into a seductive kiss. 

Mac pressed his hands against Elliot's chest and levered him away. 

"Great taste in clothes," Elliot continued in a teasing whisper, "even better taste in men. He's in the bedroom waiting for you. Come in there with me, and I'll teach you things to do with him that will drive both of you insane." 

"You were here alone with him..." Mac started. 

"I'm here for both of you," Elliot insisted. "You just showed up fashionably late." 

"He doesn't want me. You're proof of that." 

Elliot moved close again, despite the pressure Mac exerted to push him away. 

"Let's talk about what _you_ want. Vic likes to be boss doesn't he? He always wants to top you." 

Mac stopped pushing and looked at Elliot with startled, wide eyes. 

"I'm offering you a chance to make Vic feel the things you feel when he teases you till you can't take it anymore. Why not give him a birthday present you both need." 

Mac studied him for a moment before he answered. "He won't let me. He takes it away from me even when he loses." 

"He's in no position to argue, Mac." Elliot stepped around behind Mac and took off his jacket. "Help me, Mac. Help me make him crazy." 

Mac turned and didn't protest as Elliot eased off his tie. In a few moments Mac's clothes were in a pile atop Vic's coat on the couch. He and Elliot were pressed against each other, hands inside shorts, tongues exploring the sensitive spots in the other's mouth. 

"You have fantastic lips," Elliot told him as he rubbed against the other man's thigh. Mac was talented and not the least inhibited, unlike Vic. Elliot's erection was coming back nicely. "Let's not keep Vic waiting." 

Mac froze in the doorway at the sight of Vic spread on the bed, cock dusky and weeping, head thrashing as he moaned and struggled against the restraints. 

"Vic, I have another birthday present for you," Elliot said as they entered the bedroom. 

"It hurts," Vic drew out the words as he tried to roll his hips. "You promised it wouldn't hurt." 

Elliot sat on the bed beside him and grasped Vic's erection. A needy gasp escaped from Vic as Elliot flexed his fingers, kneading the heated member. 

"It's all part of the tease, Lover. It doesn't really hurt, it's just that the pleasure is getting extreme. You know, hurts so good." 

Vic was tried to thrust himself into Elliot's fist as it surrounded him. His efforts only served to tire him as Elliot kept the pressure firm but unproductive. 

"There's someone here to see you." Elliot motioned Mac to join him on the bed. 

As Mac moved into sight Vic bucked upward. 

"I don't want him here," he yelled. 

Elliot put both hands on his chest and pressed Vic back onto the mattress. 

"Vic, you can say that but we both know he's the only one you want." 

"No." Vic shook his head. "No, stop." 

"You set the rules. I'm not going to stop when you ask. And if you ever want to come you're going to have to take both of us." 

"I'm sorry, Vic," Mac murmured. 

Elliot grabbed his shoulder. "Don't. He's yours. You don't apologize for anything. You make him beg." 

"He's too stubborn," Mac stated. 

"And we're patient," Elliot cooed and gave Mac a lingering kiss. 

Vic bucked again under them. 

"Doesn't want you," Elliot said to Mac, "and apparently doesn't want anyone else to have you. We need to teach Vic how to appreciate his friends. You take that side." He pointed to his left. "We'll start at the top. Simultaneous stimulation from two different sources is very distracting." 

Elliot smiled at Mac who suddenly realized what was being asked of him and returned the smile. 

"Be creative," Elliot told him as he reached for Vic's hand. 

The two men grasped Vic's hands and spread the finger's. They gently explored his palm with their tongues and finger's till Vic was moaning and writhing. They both moved down his arms, planting teasing kisses between bites and tickling licks. Vic alternated between angry grunts as he tried to control himself and stifled laughter. 

Elliot was about to take a nipple in his mouth when Mac reached out and stopped him. 

"He doesn't like that." 

"Yes he does, Mac." Elliot thought back to how readily Vic had reacted to being stroked there as he was undressing him. "He just won't admit it. Watch." 

Elliot pointed toward Vic's rigid cock as he clamped his mouth over an erect nipple and sucked. After a few swirls of his tongue pearls of moisture appeared on the tip. 

Elliot propped himself on one elbow and smiled at Mac. 

"He doesn't like it because it makes him leak. Now you know the secret. Vic doesn't like to lose control. We have to get him past that." 

Mac smiled back his agreement and began to work on Vic's other nipple, drawing a low moan from him. 

They worked down Vic's body making sure there wasn't an inch of flesh that hadn't been visited by lips or fingertips. 

They paused occasionally to kiss each other and found themselves lying across Vic's stomach as they teased over each other's lips. Vic's heated cock bobbed next to their cheeks. Elliot rubbed his hair gently against the back of the shaft. Victor shivered at the touch. 

Elliot moved away from Mac and positioned himself with Vic's cock between them. 

"Come here, Luscious." 

Mac moved closer and their lips met around the sensitive head. Vic groaned, then bucked uncontrollably as their tongues darted out to play. Each kiss, each probing tease included the flaring, hypersensitive head of Vic's cock. First Mac, then Elliot would suck the cap into his mouth as they kissed. The gentle slide of the other man's lips, the needy cries from Vic, and the desperate, hot weeping from the tortured head was proving too much for all of them. 

Elliot pulled back and pushed Mac away. 

"You're too good at this." He smiled at the other man and ran a finger over his swollen lips. 

"Not bad yourself," Mac returned the compliment. 

"I think we better slow it down," Elliot told him. 

Victor groaned and writhed at the notion. 

"I can't... Please..." The words tumbled from him with nearly incoherent need. 

Elliot leaned over him a hand on each side of his head. 

"I'm not talking about you, Gorgeous. We're the ones who can't take much more of this. We don't have help," he reached down and tapped the tight cock ring, "to keep us in check." 

Elliot reached over and unsnapped the top of Mac's maroon boxers. 

"Take those off and show Vic what he's done to you." 

He moved back and let Mac in to straddle Vic's chest. 

"Another healthy boy," Elliot pointed out. 

"Maybe I should show you how good it can feel," Mac teased as he took himself in hand and began to stroke. Vic moaned and squeezed his eyes shut at the sight of what he was being denied. 

Elliot pulled Mac's hand away. 

"Don't do that. Although it would tease him out of his mind to see you come. Save that for sometime you're alone. I've got another idea. It'll take a little more time but you'll like it a lot better." 

Elliot rose from the bed and went towards the door. 

"Don't touch anything," he joked to Mac as he left. He stopped at the doorway and leaned back into the room. "But stay there and let him look at you, and remind him of how hard he is." 

In a couple of minutes Elliot returned with a bowl of warm water and a few terry cloth dishtowels. He put the water by the foot of the bed and stepped into the bathroom for a moment. He walked back out carrying two bath towels. 

Mac was rubbing his rigid dick slowly down Vic's chest, while Vic squirmed under him. 

"If you come it will ruin everything," Elliot warned in a conversational tone. 

"This is driving him crazy," Mac said his face alight with a wicked smile. 

"Yeah? What's it doing to you?" Elliot taped him on the shoulder. "Come on, get off him. We have bigger things in store." 

Mac rolled off Vic and lay beside him. His hand traced absentmindedly over Vic's chest as he watched Elliot work one of the fleece towels under Vic's butt. After a moment Elliot was washing between Vic's cheeks with one of the dishtowels and the warm water. 

Vic moaned at the touch and tossed his head. 

Mac had hold of Elliot's wrist as soon as he realized what he was doing. 

"Don't! He doesn't... I hurt him doing that." 

Elliot moved his wrist out of Mac's grasp. 

"I know what hurt him, Mac. I'm going to show you how to make him feel good, how to make both of you feel good; I'm just washing him. Look at his face." 

Elliot dipped the towel again and stroked Vic who bucked at the sensation. 

"That's not pain. He's very responsive. It's just like before, Mac. He doesn't like to lose control. The pleasure takes control from him." Elliot put his hand on Mac's arm and directed him towards Vic. "Kiss him for awhile. I'm going to get him ready." 

Mac lay next to Vic and kissed him gently. Vic moved his mouth open with an unspoken plea for more. Suddenly he cried out and tossed his head. 

Mac looked down and saw Elliot's head buried between Vic's legs. 

"What are you doing?" He was about to stop him when Elliot looked up. 

"You know what rimming is?" 

"Yes," Mac replied, a little stunned that Elliot's tongue licking at Vic's ass could draw such an intense response. 

"Our friend has a real sweet spot down here. When you two get the hang of this, he's going to be begging you for it." 

Elliot returned to lick and suck at Vic. 

Victor could barely stand the softly intense sensation from the knowledgeable tongue that teased at him. His body was on overload, and his mind was, as he'd wanted, gone. Each touch was like electricity mixed with feathers, and even as he begged for it to stop, he wanted it to continue forever. 

Mac was kissing him, caressing him and touching the places that only he knew about. Vic moaned and gasped, not certain whether he was saying things out loud or just thinking them in the sexual dreamtime where he floated. 

Then the prodding made him jump. Not from pain but from the incredible pleasure that was being stroked from his flesh. Mac was kneeling with Elliot and they were taking turns doing something. That something sparked through his being and threatened to tear him apart with its strength of sensation. They stretched him further each time. Each time it threatened pain, but an exquisite pleasure took its place. 

"That's the spot," he heard Elliot tell Mac. "Watch his face." 

As if against his will the pure, hot, raw feeling spiked in Vic. Again and again it flashed till he lived in a moment of near orgasm as Elliot, or was it Mac or did it even matter, touched something or some place that he didn't even know he had. 

He collapsed and nearly cried when the sensation stopped. 

"He's really close," Elliot said. 

Vic felt the restraints on his ankles released. His legs were too weak to even move. He felt hands bend and spread his legs till his feet were flat on the bed. 

"You can't have too much lube on that condom," Elliot told Mac. "Be gentle. Be slow and stay still once you get in. You'll feel like you want to come right away, but hold off. We're going to take the top of his head off." 

Vic wasn't certain who _he_ was but he felt a slight pressure on that tingling spot and moved his hips down to meet it. The feeling took his breath away as something warm and hard slipped into him. After only a second the sparks started again and he gasped as the pressure and pleasure was so much greater this time. 

His cock was throbbing and he was surprised that more sensation could be pulled from it. 

"AHHHH," he screamed as the tightness at the base was released. Something, a hand maybe, took its place. The grip stopped him from coming but it was nothing like the tightness it had replaced. A sudden rush of sensation made him cry out again. Then the warm mouth that covered him made him jerk. The hardness in him began to move, stroking and sparking over the spot inside him that seemed to concentrate all his sexual pleasure. The tongue in the warm mouth began to lick and suck in time with the other. The pleasure grew and grew like a rain squall that became louder and louder as it beat against the windows. Suddenly, the fingers, first tips, then nails that traced the inside of his leg broke the storm. 

"Mac!" He cried out. "Mac! Oh god. Oh... Oh... oh... Mac." 

Vic murmured Mac's name quietly as his orgasm subsided, certain he could see a rainbow against his closed eyelids. 

Mac panted and strained as his own climax was ripped from him. 

Elliot rested his cheek against Vic's shrunken member, and watched the sated happiness on the other man's face. He reached down with the warm damp towel, and brought himself off with a few expert strokes. 

Mac and Elliot cleaned each other and then Vic. 

When the cuffs were released from his wrists Vic rolled over and into Mac's arms, a boneless crumpled mass. 

Mac hugged him protectively and looked at Elliot. 

"Thanks," he said, his cheek resting against Vic's head. 

"That's why I was sent here." But a note of sadness betrayed the words. 

Vic's breathing was slow and deep in just moments and he appeared to have drifted off almost immediately. 

Elliot stroked the flat of his hand over Vic's back and smiled admiringly. 

"He's beautiful isn't he?" 

Mac moved his hand away. 

"He's mine." 

Elliot looked surprised but then nodded an acknowledgement. 

"There's a lot I can teach the two of you. I love your mouth, Mac. There are so many things I could do with those lips. I hope you'll let me come over and play with you again." 

"I'm not blind or stupid, Elliot. I know it's about Vic, with you." 

Vic stirred and turned towards Elliot, who smiled at him. 

"I thought you were asleep," he said gently. 

Vic rose up on his elbow and leaned towards Elliot. He kissed him, a long slow passionate kiss. 

"Thank you," Vic said softly when they broke. 

It was Elliot's turn to blush. "You don't have to thank me. Believe me, and I mean this literally when I say it was my pleasure. I just hope..." 

"Thanks Elliot, but things are complicated enough with just Mac and me. And it really is just Mac and me. There's no room for anyone else. Even you. Sorry." 

Elliot brushed his fingers over Vic's cheek. "I sort of knew that coming in, but one look at you and people leave their better judgement at the door." 

"Thanks Elliot," Vic smiled again. "I learned so much tonight." 

Elliot leaned forward and kissed him, briefly almost delicately. 

"If he doesn't take good care..." 

They both laughed and left the sentence unfinished. 

Elliot touched his cheek once more. 

"Bye Gorgeous." He gathered his clothes and walked into the other room closing the door behind him. 

Vic fell back into Mac's embrace and after a few minutes the front door was opened and then closed. At the sound Mac squeezed Vic closer to him. 

"Still don't like me?" Mac asked. 

Vic turned his face up towards him. 

"I love you, Mac. I figured that out tonight." 

Mac's lip trembled as he looked down at Vic, and he tried to take in the words he never thought he'd hear. 

"I love you, Vic." His words were almost a gasp. "God help me! I love you so much." 

THE END

* * *

AUTHOR: LeFey   
FANDOM: Once A Theif   
PAIRING: Vic/Mac/Other   
RATING: NC-17 Due to Male/Male/Male sex, bondage, language.   
STATUS: COMPLETE   
ARCHIVE: RatB, Calculated Risks http://denofsin.slashcity.tv/~lefey   
FEEDBACK:Please. [email removed]   
SERIES: SO INCLINED   
DISCLAIMER: THEY BELONG TO JOHN WOO AND ALLIANCE   
THANKS: Many thanks to Nicole S, for all the similarities we share and the wonderful Prologue, Warped she wrote for this piece, and Epilogue. I was inspired by: Sylvia's great story "Men At Some Time" in which Mac says, "Hey, this is the only way I know to do this, okay?" Minotaur's admonishment on his site, "Think of all the troubles you have in your relationships with men, and then double them." Kest's comment that Vic would watch football on TV and drink watery beer. And the Theban Band's sweet illo "Towel".   
SUMMARY: It is Victor's birthday. Mac gives him gifts and takes him out but it is the Director who has a special birthday surprise waiting.   
---


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